A Cat's Wish: Death at Moonlight
by crystal-of-D.A.-11
Summary: "Death at moonlight... Death at moonlight... "It is up to you to piece them together, bring them here under the light of the moon to meet in secret..." Bask in the glory of the sun atop the tree, but when the tree is felled, where will you be?" Those words struck Oceanpelt like a thorn in his heart. Click to find out what they mean! Sequel to "Cat's Wish Saga: The Fallen Warrior."
1. Prologue

**Hello, everybody. This is the sequel to** ** _Cat's Wish Saga: The Fallen Warrior_** **. If you are interested in reading this, I recommend checking out the first book in this series first if you haven't already, to help things make sense, although this story actually occurs at the same time as the previous one. At the time of the release of this chapter,** ** _The Fallen Warrior_** **was nowhere near finished. However, I am interested in experimenting with the point of view of another warrior: Oceanpelt. Sounds familiar to those of you who are reading** ** _The Fallen Warrior_** **, doesn't it?**

 **Yes, you probably remember him as that cat who disappeared from RiverClan at the same time that Hazelfur joined...**

 **Let's shed some light on his story, shall we?**

* * *

 **Prologue**

 _Swim, Oceanpelt, swim!_ The voices rang out in Oceanpelt's head, a chorus of pleads urging him to wet his sleek grey fur in the silky black lake water. _Come on, don't be a coward! You're a RiverClan cat, aren't you? Then swim!_ He tentatively put his paw close to the lakewater, its soft lapping on the muddy bank soothing his ears in a gentle repetitive thrum. The gentle waves of crashing foam almost touched his paws, and he longed to reach out and become one with the foamy black waves. Surely it wouldn't he wrong to have a quick nip in the water, even though he was sitting his warrior vigil? _Swim!_ High above, the clear night sky balanced in a perfect picture, reflected on the lake as the stars danced on the surface. The sounds of the night were silent, except for the soft cooing if a night cricket and the lapping of the water on shore. The soft night breeze ruffled his fur as the water lay still, invitingly cool. _SWIM!_ Giving in to his desire, he plunged his paw in the silky cold liquid, full of delight at the perfect, icy chill he felt as it engulfed his paw. Under the pale light of the glowing moon, he slid forward in the mud, soaking his body as water lapped at his belly fur. Shivering, he plunged in, cold, black water swallowing him as he dived under like a fish, enjoying the cold, smooth touch of it.

The urging voices ebbed away to a whisper as he pushed on his hind legs, gliding under the waves as the moonlight turned his pelt sleek silver. Graceful like an otter, he surged up for a breath of fresh night air. Plunging back under, he enjoyed the silky touch of the waves on his skin. He wished that he could always be as happy as this, carefree, one with a lake of pooling water. Sliding through the depths, he was a fish as he swam gently through, rising once more to look at the night sky.

As the stars glittered on above, Oceanpelt waded through the lakewater to the moss-clung trunk of the fallen tree that led to the gathering island. The tree had supposedly been struck down by StarClan many moons ago, as a sign that the cruel WindClan warrior Mudclaw was not to become leader. Now, the trunk was a safe path for all the Clans to the sacred island in the lake, where gatherings were held every moon. Sliding out his paws from the water, the RiverClan warrior dug his claws into the smooth, wet bark and pulled himself up onto the log. Moss clung to the bark, wetting it and feeling slippery under his paws. Shaking his drenched pelt, he sat down comfortably and gazed at the stars. Blinking in the cold pale moonlight, he drank in the scents of the lake.

 _Brrr, it's cold_ , he shivered, shaking loose water droplets from his pelt. _But at least it's very beautiful._ Over in front of him, far away on the other banks of the lake above ThunderClan and ShadowClan territory, he saw a set of stormy rain clouds gather in the sky, heavy with precipitation and on the brink of spilling into a downpour. Grateful that the weather was good with him, Oceanpely admired the beautiful calm scenery.

If only all nights could be as satisfying as this... Suddenly, he saw out of the corner of his eye a flickering black figure on the island. Instantly the hair stood up on his neck as he pricked his ears, craning them to see of he could hear sound, but he could hear none. Tentatively raising his paw to a standingn position, he crept forward on the mossy trunk, sliding forward, a dark figure in the night.

 _Am I just imagining it?_ he wondered as his paws clung to the mossy wet bark. He squinted in the dark, struggling to catch a glimpse of the figure. Bit it was gone. Frog-brain! Oceanpelt told himself as he shook his thick-furred stormy grey head and sat back down.

 _Honestly, sometimes you just imagine things. If Coldpaw saw you now, he would call you a frog-face. Who would be on the Gathering island at this time of night, alone? There's nothing to worry about!_ Oceanpelt relaxed and laid back, his muscles loosening. He was a warrior now! His name was Ocean _pelt_ now. It felt strange not to be called Oceanpaw anymore. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that he was going to be the greatest warrior that RiverClan had ever seen!

 _Hopefully no-cat will find out about me leaving my vigil_. Suddenly a dark thought entered his mind. _What if ShadowClan or WindClan attack? There'll be nobody to warn the cats at camp!_ His whirls of thought hurriedly pacing, he stood up to skirt back to his vigil point. The wood under his pads felt as slippery as an eel, and he clung on tightly with his claws to keep himself from falling.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow on the island distracting him from his task. _There_ is _someone there! I wasn't imagining things!_ Perhaps that was what his vigil was for - to check for intruders. What if there was a fox? Some cats had scented one around recently. He had to check! Heartbeat quickening, he spun round on his paws and slid forward to have a closer look.

There it was again! A blurry, dark silhouette situated near the Great Oak, nestling by a beech copse. Should he warn the clan? There might be an intruder nearby...

 _No_ , he told himself firmly. _I'm a warrior! I'll act like one!_ Pressing his pads closer to the moss-soaked trunk, he crept forward, his sleek wet pelt almost brushing the bark underpaw. He would get a closer look first. There was no pint in raising a false alarm.

Suddenly a magpie clucked loudly from an oak in the island, and Oceanpelt let out a squeak of surprise. Stumbling, his thoughts raced in surprise as he plummeted from his standing spot and plunged into the ice-cold lake with a loud _*splash*_. Freezing, churning lakewater infiltrated his eyes and nostrils, and he swam up to the surface to gulp a breathful of air. _StarClan curse this!_ his thoughts yelped in panick. _I hope nobody heard me fall in!_

Bubbles rose as he glided smoothly under the waves to the island, his thick fur shedding water in perfect unison with his limbs' rhythmic, powerful strokes. Confident as an otter in the smooth lakewater, he surged forward and his thick, sodden head emerged from the softly lapping waves at the muddy bank of the island.

Smooth and silent as a shadow, he crept forward on the tip of his paws, with no water droplets dripping from his water-shedding RiverClan fur. Cold air whipped against his skin and the light moonhigh breeze ruffled his fur. He realised that the next time he would come to this island, it would be at a Gathering, at the night of the full moon truce. His first Gathering as a warrior! Pride stabbed his heart at this thought and his lungs swelled up happily.

Peeking around the knotted trunk of an old, granted oak, his heart racing and his paws deft and quick on the peaty, springy ground, he caught a glimpse of the strange, dark, figure - it was sitting on the HighBranch that the leaders always sat on at Gatherings! _How disrespectful!_ thought Oceanpelt, pushing back a growl that was rising in his throat. And...it was muttering. It was muttering words. Straining his ears to catch the sound, he thought he heard "Death at moonlight, death at moonlight." What was this stranger talking about? Who could it be? It was the shape of a cat...a large cat. It didn't seem to be one that Oceanpelt recognised. _What is that mangy furball doing up there? Grr, I'll show their flea-ridden pelt what RiverClan is made of!_

Then a thought held him back. _Are you supposed to fight on your warrior vigil? Shouldn't I go back to warn your clanmates?_

But what if it was a false alarm? No, it wasn't worth it, Oceanpelt thought. _I better go to investigate first, just to check._

Hunching down low and hoping his wet fur would hide his scent, he was about to put a paw forward when a voice coming from the stranger chilled his blood:

"I know you're there."

An icy cold touch gripped his spin. Forcing his fur to lie smooth, Oceanpelt stepped out from the shadows to have his first good look at the cat above him. What he saw shocked him. A huge, pink, hairless cat was propped up on the HighBranch, his flesh raw and fat, while his eyes, which were hairy and blind, bulged out of their sockets, milky white and peppered grey. His dirty, scarred muzzle was snapped open to display a set of humongous, rotting yellow teeth, and his while body bore the scars and wounds of a warrior, it was the deep, matted nick in one of his ears that scared Oceanpelt the most.

A low growl pushed from the cat's throat. "I know what you're thinking," he meowed, his sightless eyes rolling around and his grey, withered whiskers twitching in disappointment. " _How can a cat be this ugly?_ "

Oceanpelt fought back his embarrassment. _This cat knows what I'm thinking._ Lowering his voice to a menacing threat, he growled, "Who are you, and what are you doing on Clan territories?"

The cat laughed feebly, throwing his head back to create a low, rumbling, snooty sound so ugly that Oceanpelt thought his ears would burst. "Ah, what a foolish young warrior," he purred, "just like those others. Always keen to seem menacing, create an unextisting war. They don't know a thing!" Then he rumbled into cackles again.

Oceanpelt felt his ears flattening in embarrassment and his paws twitching in frustration to being addressed like a kit. "Answer my question!" he hissed, the fur along his spine bristling dangerously.

"Why should I?" the tom answered, wrapping a half-battered, knotty, stumpy tail around his paws. For a moment his flesh faded a little, making him slightly see-through for half a moment. "You shouldn't have asked a question at all. You should be taking your warrior vigil. You just broke you vow of silence."

Oceanpelt arched his back and yowled in annoyance. "Warriors may break their vigil if their is an intruder!" In truth, he was mesmerised by how this old, crazy cat knew he was supposed to be at his warrior vigil. And how did he know about the vow of silence, which was a clan custom? He wasn't a clan cat!

The cat shrugged, his fat pink tongue lolling out if his mouth as he licked his matted muzzle. "You won't care who I am. It won't make a difference." Then he spring down with surprising deftness for such an old, broken cat as him, and stalled up to the paralysed Oceanpelt, who was trembling with curiosity and fear. "What matters," he meowed, "is who _you_ are."

Oceanpelt had never been so surprised in his life. Who was this cat? What did he want? An exciting possibility wavered into his mind.

"Are you from StarClan?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. He had always dreamed of becoming the greatest leader of RiverClan to exist. Perhaps StarClan had descended from Silverpelt especially to confirm his destiny!

The cat seemed to read his mind. "Foolish, vain hawk-heart," he sighed wearily, shaking his head. "Why would StarClan come to visit a silly useless _apprentice_ like you?"

This insult shook Oceanpelt, and his shoved his muzzle forward aggressively, his eyes burning and nostrils flaring. "I'm a _warrior_ now!" he hissed. He was disliking this stranger more and more.

"That's what you think," the cat replied matter-of-factly. "You are about to be proven wrong. Do you expect StarClan to come to see you? No, I am not from StarClan, nor the Place of No Stars, although I once was a warrior in my heart." His voice trailed away wistfully as whipped his tail around his legs. "Call me Rock," he instructed.

Rock? What kind of name was that? "What were you mumbling about before I came?" Oceanpelt asked, as curiosity pricked his mind. "I thought I heard you say "Death at moonlight" or something..."

Rock's gaze hardened and his fur seemed to suddenly bristle alarmingly as his body went tense. "Don't ask questions," he snapped, his tone a little faltering, as if he was hiding something...

Oceanpelt reeled back, surprised as the harsh words slapped his pelt. "Okay, okay," he muttered, clearly annoyed. _What's up with him? He clammed up suddenly as soon as I mentioned what he said...is he hiding something?_

He shook his head to get rid of his thoughts. What he had heard Rock say before probably had no meaning. His breathing slowed to a shallow _pitter patter_ against his ribcage. "Rock," he asked, "I've still got to ask, what are you doing here? I doubt whether you are here to cause harm, but my first loyalty is to my clan, and I am ready to defend it with my life!"

Rock paused for a second to taste the fresh night air. The distant thrum of the lake pooling on the banks of the clan territories seemed so far away now.

"I have come here briefly to tell you something," Rock answered, his blind gaze forlorn and unblinking. "You believe you have a great destiny ahead of you. Well, I can tell you that you are correct."

Oceanpelt's heartbeat quickened. _Aha! So this stranger did come to tell me about my great future! This is it! I will make RiverClan proud!_

"...But I have also come to warn you," Rock meowed, his tone the most unfathomable that Oceanpelt had ever heard in his life. "Often, the greatest paths have the most obstacles in their way, and the noblest leaders face the most struggle, strife and sorrow. Having a praised, famous name among the ranks of clan life signifies that the cat has led a hard, dangerous and painful life, as the best, most fulfilling and satisfying paths are never, ever easy..."

These words struck Oceanpelt like a thorn in his heart. Painful? Surely a great leader would never have to feel pain! Yet...truth reflected in the blind cat's words, and stabs of grief almost choked out his hopes.

"You are part of a fantastic, noble destiny," Rock echoed, stock-still, "but it is not the one that you expect. You are part of The Four. You and the others will unite to battle the evil that in currently invisible. You are the Clans' last hopes. Fulfil your destiny, young one."

...What? The Four? Who were The Four? Was he really one of them? What was he supposed to do? Who were the the other three? And what about the invisible evil?

"Be grateful that you have the privilege to see me. The other three know little of their mission, nor the fact that they are part of The Four. It is up to you to piece them together, bring them here under the light of the moon to meet in secret...

 _Bask in the glory of the sun atop the tree,_

 _But when the tree is felled, where will you be?_ "

The prophecy seemed to echo around ominously, and the somber words rang in Oceanpelt's ears. "What?!" he yowled, reeling backwards, as suddenly, the outline of the lake around the island seemed to swell up and rise, in perfect unison, higher and higher, like a great wave waiting to swallow him up...

"Rock?" he called, his voice rising to a high note of panic. "Rock? What are you talking about? What's happening?!" He spun around, quick as a hare.

Rock had mysteriously vanished.

A flurry of panic coursed through his veins as he raised his head up high in fear. "ROCK!" he yowled as he raced through the thick trunks of trees, only to see the great, looming wave rising higher and higher. Skirting back alarmingly, he ran to the beech copse and whimpered like a kit. Moonlight glittered frostily through the canopy of trees, illuminating the clearing an eerie white with leaf dapples revolving on the ground. Moonlight... Moonlight... _Death at moonlight..._

Those words _had_ to have some meaning.

"Rock! You lied!" hissed Oceanpelt as a dizzying blackness entered his mind, sending tremors through his thoughts as he staggered backwards. "... _Rock_!" Suddenly, the earth shook mightily, and a huge spray of water rained from the skies as the powerful wave came crashing down, engulfing the thrashing Oceanpelt into its murky depths...


	2. Chapter 1

**Welcome to the second book in my series. If you want to read this story, go ahead, as the first four books in the series will be in no particular order, but you might want to start from book 1, "The Fallen Warrior", anyway. Your choice. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

There was a strange smell in the air. The grass was soaking wet under Oceanpelt's fur, but there was something more powerful than wet grass and slick dew rising around him. He could sense it. Trouble. Half-unconscious, his paw absent-mindedly unsheathed it own claws and squelched in the mud.

He was sure he could hear something, vague and distant shouts. The unnatural scene of mingling heather and windblown dandelions tickled his nose.

Something stirred in his mind. _Where am I?_

There was something very wrong about his situation. For one, how come he had no memory of sleeping in his moss last night in RiverClan? He searched around unconsciously for any lingering scents of the sweet-smelling reeds and rich tastes of fish around the territory, but got nothing. Instead, rabbit burrows and prickly gorse blooms seemed to poke him into reality.

His eyes shot open. How was this even possible? Sleepily, he stumbled up, legs feeling like they were about to shatter at any moment. He reminded himself that he needed to be on his guard. Every good warrior was always prepared.

The bright light of the sun hit his blue irises, almost blinding him. The sloping hills and dips in the moorland seemed to glow with the sunlight, green like melting pastures stretching on for endless journeys. Trapped rainbows danced in the sparkling dew drops, and the land had patches stained pink and gold. As his vision slowly adjusted, the pink thinned out into little stalks of heather, while the sunlight-warm buttercup gold was merely a dappled array of gorse flowers.

Oceanpelt recoiled in surprise. He was on the moors!

 _How did I get here?_ his mind thundered. T _his must be WindClan territory! It positively reeks of rabbits. But that means I'm–_ _I'm trespassing!_

His mind thrashing, he spun around, feeling breathless. A gust of chilly wind that signalled of the leaf-fall to come froze his spine. He blinked as a familiar sight greeted him.

Smooth, coursing rays of milky sunlight seemed to slice the aqua-blue surface into a myriad of tiny shattered pieces. The foaming waves glittered and sparkled, still and calm, and the tiny surface flashed. For a heartbeat it looked like a full moon.

Oceanpelt felt the wind whirling into his back as he gazed down the rolling slopes to the lake. He could hear its soft lap even through the sound of the breeze as he stood high above, as steady and natural to him as his own heartbeat. The lake was overlooked by the thick, dense pine forest above. _ShadowClan territory_. On the other side, his own territory stared back at him. RiverClan. RiverClan, out of the four Clans that lived around the lake, was the Clan that he belonged to.

But if that was the case, then how come he was here in WindClan territory?

Suddenly it washed over him. Of course he couldn't remember sleeping in his den last night! It had been his warrior vigil. And he'd seen Rock as he went down to the island.

His mind buzzed in curiosity as he remembered the strange encounter with the ugly, hairless blind tom. He claimed that he had come both to warn him, and to tell him of a great destiny… Oceanpelt tried to push away the sinking feeling he felt in his stomach. It didn't work.

Either way, that didn't explain the strange fact that he had woken up on the moors this morning. Was Rock trying to tell him something about WindClan? Or StarClan? Was this some sort of omen?

 _Whatever it means, I have to get back to RiverClan as soon as possible so I can tell Sleekstar! This could be really important! And, even more urgently, I need to escape before I'm spotted by a WindClan cat here!_

He caught sight of the small island surrounded by water where the two rivers met, far away. That was where his camp was, just a tiny, hazy speck in the distance. It was far, so he needed to get going. On his territory he thought he saw a tiny, flickering hazelnut-orange speckle moving amongst the green, but he couldn't be sure. He opened his mouth to taste the air, and his blood curdled. What _was_ that smell? It seemed slightly familiar to him, and it made his blood curdle. A faint trace of memory was hooked somewhere on the back of his mind. Either way, it wasn't good…

Maybe that was StarClan–or Rock's–way of telling him to be on the lookout. Perhaps he would need to investigate the territory slightly further. His heartbeat rushed as he thought of prying through heather and rabbit dens for some unknown sign. That was against the warrior code! He would risk being caught if he did that…

But at the same time, if StarClan had sent him here, it had to be for a reason. _Or Rock_ , he reminded himself. But surely this was important? He twitched his ears decisively. He had made up his mind.

Paws crunching in the ground, he turned a padded among the leafy stalks of grass. Occasional clumps of daisies nestled in crooks in the ground. Hackles dangerously up, he made his way up a slope to find himself face-to-face with a huge patch of heather. Violet streamed as far ahead as he could see. He pushed through the humid stalks, flashing wary gazes around him as he went. So far, there didn't seem to be anything worth noting. The uneasy scent that he had caught before still wafter around in the air, seemingly getting stronger.

His paw suddenly scrabbled in a loose crumbling ditch. He stepped away, unable to see his legs due to the heather. A trace of fox odor came from the ditch. It was stale. _Well, that's not much to worry about, is it? An old fox den smuggled in heather._

He continued on his way, sighing. There had to be _something_. Emerging through the rough patch, he untangled loose heather buds stuck in his fur. His heart was sinking in disappointment.

He edged forward, peering through the gloomy entrance to a rabbit warren. He could barely fit his head in. Twitching his whiskers, he saw nothing.

Now he felt even more confused. Still no sign? No omen? Maybe it was because he wasn't a medicine cat. He wasn't used to reading the messages encoded in nature.

Snuffling his reeling ear with his tails, he climbed up a small rise. He angled his hearing to the moor beyond. Then, distinctively, he heard a shout, ringing through the moor-tops. It was a high, distinctive wail, with a clear note of panic arising in a tone.

Oceanpelt stiffened. That was the sound of a cat shrieking!

He scrambled up the slope, skidding on the ground as he reached the top. The wind almost toppled him over the edge. There, on the steep hillside far away, a small pair of silhouettes rimmed against the skyline were running for their lives. They were black, in front of the sun, and far away. Oceanpelt recoiled. What could it possible be that was frightening these cats?

Then with a sickening jolt, he saw another silhouette push its way into his view. It was much bigger than the others, with snapping, canine jaws and pummelling paws. He suddenly realised why there was a strange smell in the air that morning–it was the scent carried by _dogs_.

More cats followed after, furiously chasing the dog in an attempt to rescue their friends. Two more monstrous dog silhouettes emerged, and Oceanpelt's stomach lurched.

One of the cat silhouettes spun around on its heels and turned to face the second dog with an arched spine. It shrieked as the dog bowled it out of its way, and flew down the slope and crumpled. One of the cats froze in horror and gave a howl of terror.

Oceanpelt stayed stock-still in horror. WindClan territory was being rampaged by dogs! Was this what Rock had wanted him to see? Was this some kind of omen? Should he run back and tell Sleekstar right now? Maybe she could send help to the WindClan cats. It was six of them against three dogs. No– _five_ now that one of them had been knocked unconscious. WindClan cats were scrawny and underfed. There was no way they could stand a chance.

He twitched his whiskers in fevered agitation. _But what if I don't make it back in time? The dogs could kill every one of these cats and get to their camp. I have to do something! I can't leave them all alone to fight!_ But it was his duty to protect his own Clan first. If he stayed here, he could be killed too. He felt torn between running back to RiverClan to warn them and helping these cats himself.

His head throbbed with dizzying confusion. He felt pulled back to RiverClan by a homely tugging sensation, and instinctive fear for his own life too pulled him back like the swirling, stormy waters of a storm. Thunder crashed in his mind, spinning it into a tornado. He felt like chaos. At the same time, he had to be loyal to the warrior code. These cats could die, and he had to protect them.

He gulped, suddenly even more afraid. If he ran in to help them, he knew that at once his cover would be blown. The WindClan cats would see him here and it would be acknowledged as trespassing. He would get into huge trouble the day after his warrior ceremony, and could even be kept prisoner in an enemy camp. The burning possibility of his honor being scorched from him stung his pelt. But he couldn't just do nothing, could he, while these cats were running for their lives?

Oceanpelt gulped. He knew the choice was obvious. He had to accept it now.

Heart thumping, he opened his eyes.

He had made his decision.

"Hold on!" he yowled, emptying his lungs with all his force. Several heads turned to look at him in confusion, and his pelt burned.

He had to push on. There was no time to waste. "I'm coming!" he continued. "I'm going to help you!"

His legs sprang into action. He leapt down and ran straight into the long patch of flat land between the two mounds. Fire burned in his veins and his breathing quickened as he tore across the land. There was no going back now. "Wait for me!"

* * *

 **FunFact: The hazy speck in the distance I mentioned was Hazelfur, who readers of my previous book will recognise. Just thought I should include an Easter egg.**


	3. Chapter 2 - A Long Time Ago

**Chapter 2**

 _The tangy, bitter scent of herbs_ gripped the air around Goldenbush's nose. Her eyes were set firmly in front of her and focused as she scanned the rock clefts, detecting the right scents. She foraged around in the heaps of piled remedies.

A scuffling sound echoed behind her and she twisted her head to the sound of pawsteps.

"Please hurry up!" A short-furred light brown tomcat stood rigid by the den entrance. His eyes were wide in terror. "It's already started."

"I _am_ hurrying up," Goldenbush snorted curtly. Her nose poked through the tidy of arrangements of plants. She found what she was looking for. _Cobwebs_. She grabbed a small packet of it in her jaws and turned round, advancing best the tom.

His eyes were wide in searing terror. "Quick!" he begged. His tail jerked sharply as he fought to calm himself.

Mouth full, Goldenbush nodded.

"She's in there with the other queens!" And with that, he spun off on his tail and darted into the sunlight.

Goldenbush mumbled a few incomprehensible mutterings, before turning once more to grasp a few more bundles of herbs and reaching out to take a pawful of cobwebs. Soggyfoot was working himself into a frenzy. She made a swift mental note to herself that after Silverscale's kitting, she would give him some poppy seeds.

Her mouth clamped with knotted stalks, she lifted her knees higher to pick up a hurried pace as she poked her head through the lichen strands that marked the entrance to the medicine cat den. She blinked out shafts of dusty sunlight that sliced into her warm golden pelt.

The RiverClan camp felt a little deflated. Frostyflight was quickly ushering her kits, Ravenkit and Sunkit, out of the nursery and gently nudging them to the elders' den. Sunkit was squealing in protest.

"But why, Frostyflight? Why can't we see Silverscale?"

Frostyflight gave her daughter an affectionate lick. "She needs peace and quiet," she explained sternly. "And with you two jumping about in the nursery, she'll never get it!"

Sunkit's brother, Ravenkit, stumbled forward and blinked dizzily. "That's not fair," he meowed, shaking his head. "It's always Sunkit making the racquet, not me!"

"Hey!" Sunkit squeaked in protest. The she-kit had a fine coat of gleaming golden fur.

Frostyflight whispered something that Goldenbush didn't catch before hurrying her kits along at a more brisk pace now. The rest of the camp seemed lost in excitement, with Sleekstar watching thoughtfully from the ledge that jutted out below her den. Through the prickly entrance to the warriors' den, Goldenbush could see warriors pacing about excitedly.

As she passed, one of them turned to face her. "Are we allowed to see Silverscale in the nursery?"

" _No_ ," she meowed decisively through a mouthful of herbs. Really? When would these fish-brains understand?

The tom she had been talking to's tail drooped unenthusiastically. "Well, send us some cat to tell us how she's doing, then."

"She'll be fine, Pebblewhisker," Goldenbush huffed with her teeth still stuck into the prickly leaves.

The cat reached up with his foot to scratch his ear. "Alright, then, if you say so." Murmurs of disappointment rippled softly throughout the den between two cats that Goldenbush couldn't see. "Is Soggyfoot with her?"

When will he stop asking me questions? I'll be better off helping Silverscale instead of chit-chatting! "Yes, and he shouldn't be."

"Send him my luck then," Pebblewhisker meowed. "Soon he'll be a father to fine, healthy kits."

The brambles rustled and a she-cat slid out of the warriors' den, licking her tongue across her muzzle. "Stop bothering Goldenbush," she purred affectionately. "We better go fishing."

Pebblewhisker nodded. "You're right, Brooksplash," he agreed, twisting his head to look behind him into the depths of the warriors' den. "Do you want to come, Wetpelt?"

"That sounds good to me," a muffled voice replied.

Goldenbush sighed through her nose and hurriedly distanced herself from the bramble den. Really! These warriors!

Smooth rock under her paw, she squeezed into the tight entrance that marked the nursery. Warm, comforting scents of milk glided into her nostrils as she exhaled in relief. Twisted tendrils snaked across the floor and up the back wall of the den, criss-crossing under bedding and moss.

The nursery was a small space, and cats were packed around into it. Beechpaw padded around, fascinated, watching Soggyfoot lick the shuddering body of Silverscale in reassurance. Sharkfin, the young Clan deputy, was gazing wide-eyed around him in a state of authority.

"What's all the crowd in here doing?" Goldenbush hissed tartly, dropping the bundle of herbs in her jaws onto the smooth, dust-laden ground.

Sharkfin stepped forward, his amber eyes darting from side to side. "We're here to support Silverscale," he mewed.

Goldenbush held back a hiss of annoyance. How is a crowd of gossiping ravens around her going to help her? Mixed annoyance swarmed through her pelt as she gazed down at the heap of tabby fur before her. Silverscale was lying down upon her bedding, her huge, swollen stomach facing the den roof. Her mouth was dry, letting out groans. "Please…"

"You're not supporting her like this!" snapped Goldenbush. She spun in her tail like a rat, glaring through commanding slits at Sharkfin. "Leave, do you hear me? Any cat who hasn't had kits before, leave the nursery!"

It was just the that Frostyflight, the graceful white queen, hurried elegantly into the den, despite her hasty pace. She emerged from the twining brambles, squeezing as thorns caught her fur. The nursery was now even more crowded.

Sharkfin shrugged reluctantly, dipping his head to the medicine cat. He sighed, a little deeply. "Very well," he agreed.

Goldenbush shuffled along to let him squeeze past, the fur on her spine smoothing a little. At least he was sensible enough not to put up much of a fight. "Soggyfoot?" she prompted expectantly.

"But that's not fair!" Soggyfoot burst out. "She's my mate, for StarClan's sake!" His spine fur was spiked up and his wide amber eyes trembled. He looked a sight, jumpy nerves in his throat, as if pressure were tightening on it.

He looks a mess. "Go and get some poppy seeds from my den. Swallow only one, to calm your nerves. Then you can come back here and remain outside the nursery— _outside_ , all right?" she ordered.

Soggyfoot bent down to give the shuddering Silverscale one last lick. "Good luck," he sighed, his eyes round and full of concern and sympathy. Silverscale murmured a brief thanks before letting out a soft moan.

Her mate turned around with a low head and tripped out of the nursery, his paws almost tripping as he skittered out. Goldenbush watched him go with fascination in her glowing in her green eyes. How come in most kit births the father was almost always more worried than the pregnant she-cat?

"Toms!" she muttered under her breath.

Frostyflight turned to Beechpaw, who was pacing excitedly around the milk-tainted nursery. He paused under her stern gaze. "Beechpaw," the white queen warned, "that goes to you too."

Beechpaw's tail hit the ground with a downcasting thud. "All right, Frostyflight," he agreed, a trade of grudgingness in his mew.

Goldenbush spun round. "Actually, wait," she instructed. She hoped the apprentice would be grateful if he were given a task. "Beechpaw, can you go and get a stick for me, for Silverscale to bite down on? Make sure it's really thick and tough."

Beechpaw's eyes immediately brightened at being given a proper assignment. "Sure!" he chirped, his face lighting up. "I'll go and search for one right now." And with that, his snaking tail bobbed as he wound his way out of the nursery.

Goldenbush let out a sharp exhale of relief. The nursery finally felt lighter. She shared a look of satisfaction with Frostyflight. The white queen's thick coat of fur was rich and gleaming. "Finally," she purred, amused.

A horrible groan echoed beside them both, loud and reflecting immense pain. Silverscale stirred in her bedding, her belly convulsing rapidly. Her paws felt around her stomach in vain. "Help me," she begged, before maoning again.

"Right," Goldenbsuh meowed with authority. "Frostyflight, get by Silverscale's side, the one close to den wall. Hold her paw and encourage her."

The medicine cat placed her paw on Silverscale's trembling belly. It was round and large as swollen moss ball. She felt around determinedly, until she hit a spot just when Silverscale let out a shriek.

"Okay, Silverscale," she meowed gently, "the kits are right here. Don't worry, you're doing a good job."

Silverscale, shivering, bit her wobbling lip. "Do I need to push yet?"

Gently, Goldenbush massaged the round belly. "No," she answered soothingly, feeling around. "Not yet. But soon." Hurry up, Beechpaw! she begged silently.

Frostlyflight murmured encouragement to the pregnant queen. "You know, when I was kitting, I was really worried too, about it all, but once it had started everything was just so much easier."

Silverscale gave a weak little nod. "H-how… How many kits are there?"

"Judging from the size of your belly, either two small ones or one large one, so it should be nice and quick," Goldenbush replied.

Another shudder rippled through Silverscale. "Hurry up, kits!" she wailed.

Goldenbush cast a furtive glance around her, her senses keen to hurry up. There was no sign of Beechpaw, so she turned her attention back to Silverscale. "You can push now," she announced calmly.

Silverscale barely managed a feeble nod. With a relieved sigh, she began to heave her effort into work.

A huge shudder rippled through her belly, and her eyes were screwed tightly shut in pain. "It h-h-hurts!" she shrieked.

"That's good," Goodenbush soothed, her nerves not getting the better of her. She had been trained specially it stay calm in the face of the situation, and she would do that.

Frostyflight held Silverscale's trembling paw. "Good job," she whispered. "The beginning is only the hardest bit. After that, it's easy."

Another spasm racked the kitting queen. She closed her eyes, her beautiful silver belly swelled up and shuddering. She drew in heavy breaths. "May I have s-some poppy seeds?"

"Now," Goldenbush shook her head. "Poppy seeds will only make you want to sleep. Be reasonable. Just keep on pushing and doing your best effort and it will be over in a heartbeat."

Silverscale heaved a grunt of effort. "This is nit a comfortable position."

Goldenbush but back her tongue. She felt her paws expertly around Silverscale, stroking the fur. _Hurry up, Beechpaw!_ she wanted to snap.

Frostyflight licked Silverscale on the head. "You know, you're very lucky to have a skilled medicine cat like Goldenbush here to help you. Did I tell you the story of the cat who had to kit all on her own?"

Silverscale was shaking her head slowly. "Wh-who?"

Frostyflight purred. "Thistletail!"

Suddenly the brambles rustled and leaves were scattered bout everywhere. Goldenbush snapped her head back. Beechpaw, exhausted and breathless, skittered to a sharp halt in the nursery. "I have it!" he announced triumphantly, dropping a large, rugged oak stick. "I have a stick!"

That will have to do, Goldenbush thought. She looked up at Beechpaw. "You can leave now," she prompted. "Thanks for helping. I'll ask Sleekstar to let you have second-pick of the fresh-catch pile this evening."

Beechpaw looked as if he were about to burst with pride. "Thanks!" His gaze slid to Silverscale. "Is she alright?"

"She's fine," Goldenbush ushered, keen to get Beechpaw out of the den.

Beechpaw shot one last look before rapidly scampering out. The air cleared again, and Goldenbush lifted the stick to Silverscale. "Bite down," she ordered.

Silverscale didn't question Goldenbush's authority. She sank her with into the wood so powerfully that for a heart beta Goldenbush was convinced that he stick was going to snap. The queen was pushing harder now, taking her effort and pain out on the stick.

"That's marvellous!" Goldenbush purred. In several instants, a small, fluffed-up gooey bundle slid onto the moss.

Silverscale gasped. "W— Was that a— Was that a kit?"

Frostyflight nodded, unable to contain he excitement. "You've done it!"

Relief seemed to sink into the silver tabby queen. "Was that the only one?" she meowed, letting go of the oak stick.

Goldenbush carefully prodded the swollen belly. It bounced back, soft. "Yes," she answered. "Do you feel better now?"

Silverscale didn't answer. Frostyflight was busy peering over at the strewn bundle on the moss. "Oh look! It's got wonderful stormy gray fur."

Goldenbush nipped the sac in her jaws and the kit cried out softly. The medicine cat began to lick its fur the wrong way, feeling the warm pulse of blood under her tongue.

"Can I see it?" Silverscale croaked, finally relaxing.

"Yes," Goldenbush responded, turning to Frostyflight. "You can call Soggyfoot now."

Frostyflight dipped her head and left the den, her feathery white tail vanishing. In less than a heartbeat Soggyfott was sprinting back in, concern etched everywhere on his face.

"How did it go?" he gasped, seeing Silverscale.

"Wonderfully. I didn't even need to use my herbs." Goldenbush handed Sogyyfoot the bundle. "Lick its fur the wrong way."

Silverscale shuffled uncomfortably. "Can't I do that?"

Frostyflight emerged, pride flaring in her soft blue eyes. "Are you sure you're up for that?" she asked kindly.

"It's _my_ kit," pointed out Silverscale stubbornly.

With a mutter, Goldenbush handed the gray kit over. "You are blessed with a fine, healthy tomkit."

Silverscale, though exhausted, rasped he rtobyie over his moss-soft fur. Love glittered in her eyes. "What should we call him?" she asked to Streamfur.

The kit fluttered open one eyelid for a heartbeat before shutting it again. His orbs were a startling blue.

"He has eyes like the darkest water!" Soggyfoot breathed.

"Like the water in the mystical tales from the sun-drown-place."

"Like the ocean, you mean?" Soggyfoot looked up. Most cats had heard tales about the lake at the place where the sun setted every day, a lake so big it had no limits. The lake was called the ocean.

Silverscale smiled. "Yes."

"Then let's call him Oceankit."

Goldenbush packed up her herbs. "You can all tell the Clan now." She looked at the kit one last time. She had a feeling he was special.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The wind chilled Oceanpelt's fur. Breath caught in his throat, he plundered up the moortop with racing energy in his paws. The dewy grassblades licked his pads as he ran ahead. He could feel his heart pulsing inside his chest.

The shapes in front of him became clearer, and merged from merely silhouetted against the pink skyline to small, distinctly-feature cats. One of them skidded to a slippery halt and froze. "Who are you?" she yowled out.

The shadow behind her grew bigger and bigger and leapt out, slavering jaws open. Oceanpelt caught a glint of shiny amber eyes glaring ahead.

His heart raced. "Look out!" he cried to the WindClan she-cat, before throwing himself at the dog's arched spine. His claws ripped out and scored the creature's black fur as he landed on it, furiously holding on with his hooked claws.

The dog snarled in pain and tried to twist its neck to bark at the imposter. This gave the she-cat just enough time to dive out of the way. Eyes round in panic, she scrambled to the side, and hared away to help her Clanmate hold back the other dogs. Her tail bobbed as she ran away, and the dog, realizing it had been tricked, snarled furiously.

Meanwhile, Oceanpelt was wrenched firmly into its fur, heart beating as fast as lightning. He clutched on to the dog's ugly, matted fur, feeling fear electrify him. He was stuck now. Clutching on limply for dear life, he panted as the dog howled and span around infuriatingly, trying to shake him off. Feeling sick, Oceanpelt hung on as best as he could, but he couldn't help his hind paws slowly slipping down the dog's flank. Trying to stifle a wail, he was jogged around like a mere toy before they were dislodged for good.

He dangled off the dog's side helplessly, feeling terrified. His two front paws were still digging into the creature's spine. _I'm hanging on the edge by a thread,_ he realized with a sinking feeling. _If I fall off, the dog will step on me and I'll be crushed!_

Forcing himself to be rational, he sank his teeth into the beast's spine, and heard it screech. He used momentum as he dangled to swing on of his loose legs over. The dog snarled and pelted around stupidly, snorting for food. Feeling a pang of satisfaction, Oceanpelt shifted and snapped his teeth right where its neck was. He could feel skin break as he bit with his teeth. Dirty, ragged fur touched his tongue, and he winced at the taste, but carried on. The dog's blood-curdling howls pierced his ears. His eyes shone with effort as he tore through flesh. _That's what you get for messing with Clan cats, foul-breath!_

Eventually the dog couldn't take it anymore. With a dying wail, it collapsed, its legs giving way to pain. Oceanpelt gasped as he felt himself falling. He let go of his thorn-sharp grip, tumbling to the ground and rolling on the grass.

It only took him a moment to get up. His vision was dizzy and his breath rasped, but he felt a twinge of satisfaction as he saw the hound's limp body on the ground next to him, knocked out. He had surely broken its neck.

Staggering up, he looked around the moor. It looked odd and unfamiliar to him, and he felt homesickness nudge his heart. Swarming thoughts of RiverClan crowded his mind for a heartbeat, but he pushed them away. There were more important things to worry about right now.

Paws swaying, he saw a shape whizz past in a blur. Two more racing dogs hurtled past. One was a huge golden mutt with a flat muzzle, and the other was a brown, long-legged canine with a tongue that hung out limply. They were hot on the trail of the three remaining WindClan cats. The one in the back was trailing behind, and, with alarm, Oceanpelt noticed that she was limping. Upon closer inspection, he saw a torn gash where the dog's claws had snagged her fur.

His blood quickened. If the WindClan cats kept on running, they would surely be outpaced soon. They were running out of energy, and the dogs were catching up. Their only hope was to fight.

"Hey! Wait up!" he shouted, spurting forward. "Stop running! We outnumber the dogs by one, so we should fight them!"

The WindClan cats hared on, paying no attention. Blood roaring in his ears, Oceanpelt chased after them, skirting the dogs.

"Listen to me!" he howled through the noise of thrumming pawsteps. "You have to fight! It's the only way!"

The limping she-cat slowed down to run side by side with him. She shot him poisonous glare, eyes flashing. "We've got no chance of overpowering them, trespasser. They're bigger and stronger than us. If you were smart, you'd get out of our land before things get ugly."

"They may be bigger and stronger than us, but we can easily outsmart them," Oceanpelt huffed. _They have to listen to me! It's their only hope!_

The she-cat left out a snarl of pain before looking down to her injury. "Look, we don't need you here. Escape while you can. WindClan is strong enough on its own!" she hissed at him.

Oceanpelt looked around at the weedy, three remaining cats. Their fur was fluffed up painfully on there spines and through their pelts, Oceanpelt could see their spines' faint outlines. These cats were hungry and weak, and there were only three of them against the two dogs. The tom glared at the she-cat. "Fine. You want me to leave you all alone to fight these dogs, then?"

The she-cat let out a hiss of frustration. She was obviously torn between giving off the impression that her Clan could support itself and seeking help for her allies. Clenching her teeth, she raced on despite her injury, tormented by these decisions. Eventually, pride won.

"We can manage this on our own!" she snapped, her eyes hollow. The wound on her back leg was caught in a thorn clump, and she tore her foot away and winced. The injury opened up again, and the air became rank with the smell of fresh blood.

Oceanpelt huffed. These fools! They were too proud for their own good! With their injuries, they would surely be slain.

He ignored the WindClan she-cat's protests. "Listen to me!" he yowled. "One dog's been taken down. There are only two left. There are four of us including me, so we should double up on each dog!"

A tom skidded into a patch of heather and darted his gaze around. "Who are you?"

Oceanpelt ground his teeth. "That doesn't matter! Do you want to live or die? Do as I say!"

The tom looked fearful. "What should we do?"

 _Finally! Someone's actually listening to me!_ "Team up with your other Clanmate to fight the big golden one! We'll take the brown dog!"

The she-cat standing next to him gave a snarl of horror. "What do you mean, ' _we'_?"

Oceanpelt forced his fur to lie smooth. "That's right. We're going to pair up to fight that dog."

The she-cat twitched her whiskers in alarm. "The one chasing us?"

"As opposed to one in Twolegplace?" Oceanpelt, despite the seriousness of the situation, let his mouth run dry with sarcasm. He was beginning to get frustrated with this she-cat.

"Thanks, but I don't need your help," she huffed. Her leg was slowly bleeding small streams of blood. There was also a scar on her shoulder.

Her Clanmates plundered on. The tom arched his spine as he ran, and looked pleadingly at the she-cat. "Look! He's right! We need to fight! If we don't, we'll tire ourselves out to death."

Oceanpelt nodded in conviction. "Listen up. You don't have a choice!"

The last WindClan cat, a small spotted she-cat, gave a hiss of irritation. "I'm not going to sit here twiddling my paws as you all bicker! I'm going to kill this mange-pelt of a mutt or die trying!"

With that, she sprang around with fiery eyes and spurted back the way she had come, claws unsheathing in the grass. The tom tensed his muscles and skidded to a halt. "Soddenleaf!" With a look of determination, he gritted his teeth and chased after her. "I'm going with you! You're not alone!" They both ran like wildfire towards the golden-furred dog.

The she-cat beside Oceanpelt sighed. "Well, we might as well be killing ourselves, but I'd do anything to save my Clan." She looked expectant at the dark-gray-furred tomcat. "So, what do you want me to do?"

Oceanpelt looked at her. He suddenly felt the enormity of the circumstances. Behind him, he could feel the pulsing breath of a huge, half-starved dog chasing him, and gaining on him. His lungs felt like exploding and his throat was parched, as he had hardly enough breath or energy left in him. Unlike these WindClan cats, he wasn't built for running on the moors. _I need to be brave. I need to save the lives of innocent cats_. He gulped. Fear overcame his heart and his mind. _If I don't, I'll never be a true warrior._

"Let's think tactically," he meowed, partly to himself. He unnoticingly tried to imagine what Sleekstar would do in this situation. Sleekstar, the proud leader of RiverClan. Surely she would overcome these dogs!

He didn't even realise he was taking charge. _Anything to protect others._ "I'll turn around and run straight at it, and take it by surprise. I'll try and get its spine. In the meantime, can you come straight after and attack it from in front?"

"I can do that, no doubt," the she-cat replied. "Whether we'll succeed is another matter."

Oceanpelt's heart pulsed. His paws dragged in the mud. He dodged rapidly as the swiftly-approaching dog lashed out a paw at him, narrowly missing his tail. "Okay," he meowed, the sound drowned out by the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat. Without another word he span around and launched himself at the dog, snatching tufts of fur as he sailed in the air. He latched on with a cry, his sharp silver claws catching the dog's ears.

The dog stopped abruptly in frustration, and Oceanpelt had to cling on as his stomach lurched and he froze in the air. _StarClan, save me!_ Yowling, felt his paws incontrollably ferret around in the air. Almost flying off due to the momentum, he swiped at the dog's eyes, trying to blind it.

He clawed off the bridge of it nose. Wheezing as blood streamed down its face, the dog shook Oceanpelt off. He tumbled to the ground ungratefully, paws aching in despair. Grass and overgrown moss softened his landing, but his brain still felt an ice-cold thump on the moment of impact.

The smell of heather got to his head. Confused, he struggled to get up. He pawed at the dog's side randomly, dodging and ducking so it missed every strike. Remembering battle techniques from his mentor, he managed to roll over quickly when it pounced completely on the spot where he was. If he hadn't, he would have been crushed to pieces.

 _Come on!_ he urged inside his mind, silently wishing the WindClan she-cat would come and help. He didn't know how long he could last on his own. _Where are you?_

As if on cue, she suddenly burst forward, exploding from the sign and latching in to the dog's side. Her claws pierced its tough skin and her teeth shook as they tried furiously to break the spine. Her eye caught Oceanpelt's and he flashed back a look of gratitude.

The dog's mouth bared its teeth in a snarl as it howled in pain, raising its head up to the skies. Oceanpelt took this as an opportunity to rush forward and slash its exposed neck. His claws tore through the dog's throat, and a jet of blood splashed out and soaked his fur.

Furiously, the dog sprang forward in rage. Oceanpelt's blood tightened and he only just managed to roll to the side, tumbling through the spiky grass. Mud splattered on his ears and he scrambled up pitifully as he saw the WindClan she-cat get thrown off into the ground.

Oceanpelt looked at her withered position in horror. The dog stood, several paces in front of them, wheezing and snarling, snorting as its stunted claws scraped the ground in frustration. The RiverClan tom saw her look at him expectantly, and he realised that she was awaiting some kind of order, as if he were leader. He had never taken on that role before. Confused, he tried to think. _What in StarClan would Sleekstar do?_

He sent a darting look to the she-cat. "Are you able to slide under its belly?" he whispered.

"I might be slightly injured, but not _that_ impaired."

"Good, then. Do that and I'll––"

Suddenly the dog leapt forward with an almighty roar, lunging straight for the WindClan cat. Without time to think, Oceanpelt skidded forward in front of her. He heard a gasp escape from her throat as the dog's filthy claws hit him instead. Dazed, he fell back and clattered to the peaty ground.

The WindClan she-cat trembled behind him. "You _saved_ me," she echoed like a rock, shocked. _"_ You're not even from WindClan."

Oceanpelt's head throbbed. His chest felt seared with pain, where the blow had struck. He lay curled up on the ground like a kit, too afraid to move.

The WindClan she-cat hissed in anger. "You stupid beast!" she screeched at the dog. "You're going to regret you ever stepped on my Clan's land in the first place!"

With that she jumped up and charged forward head-on, her eyes clearly striving to ignore the pain in her leg. She nimbly darted to the side and scored a scar in the dog's side. It lashed at her but she span around the other way and leapt to where its muzzle was, slicing open its nose. The dog, blinded by blood, furiously span around trying to hit her wth his pumelling paws, but she dodged and ducked with agile ease.

Oceanpelt, as he watched, couldn't help but feel impressed. _WindClan cats are fast and fierce, even when going through a hungry season._

Suddenly two pairs of running paws caught him by surprise. A cat charged right up to the dog and began to fight it herself, and he felt another cat nudge him up gently.

"We drove our dog away, so now it's out turn to help you," came the voice of a tom. "Are you fit to fight?"

Oceanpelt shifted himself and slowly got up onto his legs, shaking. "Yes," he replied with determination. "I'll fight too." Inside, he was brimming with relief and gratitude.

The two toms sprang forward and slashed their claws at the fierce wolf-like creature. The dog hissed, but couldn't keep on counter-attacking attacks from four different cats. A fountain of blood kept on spraying from its gurgling throat. Eventually, it growled and span away, and took off howling through the hills, whimpering.

Oceanpelt panted heavily and looked around him in ecstasy. A pang of satisfaction hit him. They had defeated the dogs.


	5. Chapter 4

**Hello, sorry for not updating sooner! 3 chapters will be posted in one go. From now on I'll try to post a chapter a week. ^.^**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

Oceanpelt looked up at the sky. "Thank StarClan! We did it."

The spotted she-cat called Soddenleaf dipped her head. "This was all thanks to you."

He felt his fur suddenly grow hot with embarrassment. He had never thought about it that way before. Whenever a cat was in need, it just seemed natural to help them. "That's not true. It was a team effort," he replied modestly.

The WindClan tom looked amazed. "It was very kind of you to choose to help us out when we are complete strangers to you, especially when all the odds were stacked against us surviving."

The last she-cat, who had fought beside Oceanpelt, nodded with gratitude. "Yes, absolutely. But despite the team we have forged it is time for you to leave our land, as the warrior code forbids all cats from trespassing."

Soddenleaf tilted her head. "Don't be so hurried, Quagfoot. He fought beside us like a warrior, so we should honor him like a warrior. Let him come back to our camp with us to get his wounds treated."

Quagfoot twitched her whiskers. "No, we can't do that without Broadstar's permission. Besides, the season's been harsh enough already and most plants haven't been getting enough water. We can't afford to waste our precious herbs on an outsider."

"No, I agree with Soddenleaf," the tom put in. "Without treatment, that throat wound could get infected, and he could die. It's the least we can do to help him."

Soddenleaf fixed them all with a pointed gaze. "We can't stand here all day arguing," she pointed out.

Oceanpelt hastily stepped in. "It's fine. I come from RiverClan, so I can always get treatment there. I need to return anyway, as my Clan will miss me."

"You're not from RiverClan!" Quagfoot exclaimed, surprise dawning on her face. "I've never seen you before."

"That's because you have a short memory, Quagfoot," the tom teased, purring with affection.

Soddenleaf shook her head. "I can't recognize him either, Longthroat. He can't be from RiverClan as he says he is."

Longthroat tipped his head at a slight angle, before pacing up to Oceanpelt. The dewy grass swished in his paws, and he blinked, showing clear amber eyes. "If you're from RiverClan, then you _know_ this is trespassing. Why are you here?"

There was suddenly a tense silence, and the entire mood of the group seemed to plummet into a dark tunnel of stormy waters. Oceanpelt's ears stiffened and he twitched his whiskers. His spine contracted. This was what he completely didn't understand. Why had he woken up here, and how? Was this all of Rock's doing? How was one cat who wasn't even part of StarClan so powerful? If Rock had sent him, was it just to protect WindClan from three dogs? Why him, and not someone like…Sleekstar? Or a senior warrior?

Nothing made sense unless Rock was responsible for this, so he might as well go with that. Clearing his throat, he looked at the WindClan cats squarely in the eye. "Rock sent me," he explained.

Quagfoot didn't look impressed. "A rock sent you?"

"No. Rock. The name of another cat."

"And who might this Rock be?"

"I have actually no idea."

Quagfoot hissed in indignation. "This cat is making fun of us. We might as well go."

Oceanpelt watched her, aghast. _This sounds stupid! No-one was ever going to believe me. I'm going to be in such trouble!_ His paws waited to turn and run but he stared on ahead. Thinking rationally, he dipped his head in apology. "I'm sorry if I was unclear. What I meant is that I didn't mean to be here - I just heard a shout from the border and knew at once that there was a cat in trouble. I rushed over to help and did my best. Now, it's time I returned home."

Longthroat looked puzzled. "You don't carry the scent of anyone from RiverClan. Even if you are from there, we should probably take you back to camp with us. Even if you meant well, Broadstar should know about this."

Quagfoot nodded. "It's too far to walk from here to your own camp. You need medical treatment _now_."

Soddenleaf was about to nod when she gasped. "Deerleap!"

At once, everyone froze. Oceanpelt felt a tense shiver creep down his spine. It all came back to him. Just before he had rushed in to help the WindClan, he had seen a figure crumble, hadn't he? A mere silhouette, defeated by the dog.

Soddenleaf pushed through them all anxiously. "Deerleap!"

Without waiting, the three WindClan cats tore down the hill and pelted through the wind. Oceanpelt quickly scrambled behind them, struggling to keep up. He realized that they were following the fresh scent of newly-spilled blood.

Soddenleaf staggered to a halt as she caught sight of a broken, mangled figure at the foot of the mound. A pale, creamy-brown tabby was bleeding silently, deadly still. She suddenly screeched with horror. " _Deerleap_!"

"We don't know for sure that he's dead yet!" Longthroat told her. "Come on!"

He hared down and stepped over the body, placing his paw on the victim's flank and waited breathlessly. Hardly any time seemed to have passed when he swung his head round with relief. "He's alive! He's still warm!"

Quagfoot carefully turned Deerleap over. The unconscious cat now lay, chest facing the sun, on his back. There was a nick in his ear, and blood was slowly trickling out of a chest wound.

Soddenleaf screamed. "He's losing blood!"

Oceanpelt, who had watched silently in shock, stepped forward to place his tail-tip on her shoulder in comfort. "We've still got time. Let's get him to camp as quickly as possible."

Her eyes were bloodshot and hollow. "It might be too late."

Suddenly there was a stirring in the muffled heap, and Deerleap opened one eye gently, an action which cost him a lot of effort. His mouth moved slightly, but at first no sound came out. Blood dripped from the corners of his mouth. "You're – alive…" he managed, panting heavily, flanks heaving up and down. "H…how…?"

Quagfoot licked him softly. "We beat the dogs. This cat convinced us to fight, and we won." He flicked his tail toward where Oceanpelt was.

The corners of Deerleap's mouth twisted upward slightly. "Thank - you," he gasped, voice breaking.

Soddenleaf nudged him. She bent down so her head was level with his, and stared into his eyes. "Are you able to stand?" she whispered.

Deerleap rolled onto his side and slowly staggered up, legs shaking in the process. "I can do it."

Soddenleaf and Longthroat immediately rushed to his sides, where they let him lean against them for support in exhaustion. "We better go back to camp," Longthroat meowed, clearing his throat. He looked directly at Oceanpelt, and signalled with his tail-tip for him to come along.

Oceanpelt debated in his mind whether to offer help support Deerleap too, but decided against it. It was their Clanmate, after all, and he didn't want to offend them. He waited for them to lead him on slowly, before he followed them himself. He felt out of breath and subdued, and his chest fur was drenched in dried blood. Wearily, he dragged himself over the moor, where the sweet scents of mingled heather and gorse blooms beckoned to him invitingly. Clearing his lungs with the pure air, he ambled along. Ahead of him, Deerleap hobbled with his neck resting on his Clanmate's shoulders, with Quagfoot leading the way in front. Pain was clearly marked on the warrior's features, but he ignored his affliction and carried on.

Oceanpelt padded in the grass, confusion fumbling through his mind. _What was the point of me coming here and helping to chase away the dogs if Deerleap is so gravely injured anyway? I'm useless. Rock shouldn't have chosen me! I need to be better!_

His mind swam as he remembered Rock. Last night's had been so crazy… So random, and unordered… He was beginning to wonder, just vaguely, if it had all been a dream. What if he was just imagining it all? Rock's sullen, hairless face bulged in his mind. Those milky white eyeballs, despite having no pupils, seemed to be fixed straight at him, like the spectre of a faded StarClan cat.

Just as he imagined Rock's face in his mind while gazing at the sky did a miracle happen. The face seemed to grow more life-like and vivid right before him. The features widened out into a detailed array of features, and the eyes seemed to move in the sky.

Oceanpelt almost jumped back in shock, furiously blinking. To his outright surprise, the face was still there. Rooted to the spot, he watched Rock mouth the words, "Your task is not done yet."

Oceanpelt, who felt fear ripple through him, blinked again, and this time, the face was gone.

Without noticing, he had absent-mindedly paused, stopping right in his tracks. Half-a-dozen fox lengths in front of him, Longthroat turned his head to call out to him. "You! Hurry up, will you?"

Oceanpelt at once snapped out of his gaze and pelted across, heartbeat racing. After apologizing to the WindClan cats, he resumed his steady pacing, but this time with a more hurried note. Had what he had just seen been real too?

There was no mistake about it. Rock's face had flashed in his vision as clear as daylight, and he had mouthed the words very clearly: "Your task is not done yet."

That could only mean one thing. Rescuing WindClan from the dogs clearly wasn't enough. Oceanpelt was destined to stay in the moors longer and free WindClan from even further turmoil. Glancing at the WindClan cats' wounds and jutting ribcages, it was clear to see that this Clan needed support. They were going through a hungry season.

Oceanpelt's mind prickled with unease. Did that mean that he couldn't go back to RiverClan until he had completed his task? Why did this have to happen _just_ after he had finally become a warrior? He told himself not to be so resentful. _A true warrior helps out others no matter what inconvenience!_

He nodded in conviction. He would do it, no matter what trouble he would get into! It was simply the right thing to do.

Just as his paws began to ache and the sun had made his back pleasantly warm, the party stopped abruptly. Quagfoot turned her head and looked at Oceanpelt. "Welcome to our camp."

Oceanpelt blinked in surprise. Unlike the RiverClan camp, or any of the other camps, the WindClan camp was completely exposed, with no protection or defence. It was right under the open sky and subject to any downpours of rain, as it was only a shallow scoop in the moorland terrain. Dens, sets and warrens faded out into small tunnels ideal for shelter, from the sloping sides of the dip. Nearby, a pile of sharp gray rocks stood, intact through the strong wind. A gorse bush, sweet-smelling and radiant, bloomed in the camp, yellow like the sun's jewel.

Quagfoot, seeing his surprised face, angled her ears toward the camp. "We don't have many proper dens, since we like to sleep under the stars."

There were some cats in the camp basking in the sun and playing in the open expanse. At once, all heads turned to gaze at the new arrivals. All eyes, young and old, swivelled to gaze at the wounded cats, and Oceanpelt felt as if they were all mostly looking at him in particular. He raised his shoulders proudly. _I won't back down_.

A large tomcat who he recognized instantly got up. "What happened?" he cried, flicking his tail. "You're all tired and injured!"

Quagfoot and the other warriors all dipped their heads in unison, and Oceanpelt hurriedly did the same. She sank down into a respectful position. "I am sorry, Broadstar," she murmured.

Oceanpelt felt the leader's raking gaze stir them into shape. Broadstar was a benign but powerful tom with broad, muscular shoulders. The leader cleared his throat. "There is no need to apologize," he meowed. "Only tell me what is going on."

Quagfoot nodded. "We were out hunting on the moors when three fierce dogs suddenly attacked us before we caught any food. They were fearsome and bloodthirsty, and chased us. We were afraid that they would get to the camp, and we were also too scared to fight them. Then one of the dogs caught up to Deerleap and hurt him gravely, knocking him unconscious. The rest of us caught sight of another cat on the moors, and he ran to us and convinced us to fight the dogs. He helped us win - we either killed them or chased them away." She closed her eyes and sank even further down. "With all due respect, Broadstar, we thought it fitting that he should get treatment for his injuries here, as a way to repay him. We had no means of asking you first."

"Let's sort out Deerleap first," Broadstar ordered, his eyes troubled. "Feathershine!" he called out, sweeping his thin tail along the dust-laden ground. Oceanpelt noticed that despite his proud, tall shoulders and powerful muscles the tom was weak-looking and hungry.

A pretty slim white cat with silver-tipped ears, tail and paws swept into the clearing, emerging from a crack in the rock. Her head turned, revealing two leafy blue eyes. "What is it?" she asked with a soft voice, although there was a rise of emergency in her voice.

"It's Deerleap!" Soddenleaf cried. "You have to save him, Feathershine! He's badly hurt!"

Deerleap stumbled forward, eyes half-closed. Blood seeped over his fur, turning it red like a leaf-fall tree. Feathershine shook her head. "It's not so bad," she meowed at once. "It hit an important artery, but I can tell it's not deep." And with a swish of her feathery tail which she wrapped around his limping shoulder, she disappeared back into the thin crack peeking through a steep ridge of rock.

Quagfoot sighed in amazement. "Feathershine truly is brilliant. If it weren't for her, the Clans might have died out all of those seasons ago when we were so sick. They say she is the most gifted of all the current medicine cats."

Oceanpelt had heard many rumours about Feathershine, the talented medicine cat of WindClan, but he still thought that every Clan was inclined to think that their own medicine cat was the best. He glanced at Broadstar. The battle-hardened tom flicked his gaze toward him. Age crackled in his mew. "If what my warriors say is true, then you are a hero."

Oceanpelt shook his head, feeling his pelt grow hot. "I didn't do anything, really."

"That's not true," Longthroat denied. "You defeated one of the dogs all by himself, and then convinced us to fight. He battled with us. Without him, we would surely all be dead by now."

Broadstar looked at Oceanpelt with a curious look sparkling in his eyes. "You made the right decision to take him here," he rasped, dipping his head. He then looked back at the RiverClan tom powerfully. "Thank you, young warrior. I owe you muany thanks."

Oceanpelt ducked respectfully. "Not at all."

Broadstar flashed his raking gaze around the camp. "After Feathershine is finished with Deerleap, you all may be treated by her, as you have fought hard. This includes you, stranger. You may stay in our Clan's camp for as many days as it takes you to recover."

"Thank you for your hospitality," Oceanpelt responded, feeling honored. This was perfect! _Now I can stay here and accomplish whatever mission Rock has assigned me to, so as to help WindClan. RiverClan will just have to miss me until then. I'll be a hero when I come back anyway, so what does it matter if I go missing for a few days?_

By that time, many cats had begun to prowl out of their dens to gaze at the stranger. Wide eyes reflected back at him, and muffled whispers rippled around the clearing echoing in the moors.

"I forgot to ask you this." Quagfoot stepped forward. "What's your name?"

Oceanpelt blinked. "Oceanpelt."

Longthroat tipped his head to the side. "That sounds just like a Clan name!"

"You claim to be from RiverClan, remember?" Quagfoot meowed, though a disbelieving look hung clearly on her face.

At once, the cats in the clearing fell silent and stared at Oceanpelt forcefully with scorching eyes. He shuffled his paws nervously, spine fur prickling in embarrassment. Thinking on his feet, he replied swiftly, "Oh, I didn't mean that. I meant that I came _from_ RiverClan territory, as I've been wandering through their land recently. I'm not actually a RiverClan cat."

Quagfoot, Longthroat and Soddenleaf gazed at him silently, struck by odd looks. Eventually, Soddenleaf gave in and nodded, albeit looking slightly confused.

Broadstar raised his voice so everyone, young or old, in the clearing could hear. "From now on, and until he heals completely, Oceanpelt shall be staying with us. He shall be treated like a guest and be given food and medical treatment, as payment for the valuable courage he gave to our Clan." His powerful gaze flashed as it crossed the sunlight and exchanged furious light. And with that, he let his fur lie smooth and padded away.

Although there were a few unhappy mutters, Oceanpelt felt a war, pleasant feeling of satisfaction in his heart. He now had a perfect excuse to stay in WindClan for at least several days. He truly believed that StarClan _was_ on his side. Everything was running smoothly. For a moment, he forgot the pain of his wound.

"Come on." Soddenleaf flicked her tail toward Feathershine's den. "Let's go and heal our injuries as quickly as possible."

Oceanpelt smiled to himself. _Finally, I can be a true hero!_ "Let's go," he meowed faintly, before following the others to the medicine den.


	6. Chapter 5 - Chapter 2, continued

**Chapter 5**

"Shouldn't you go back to him?"

"Hush, he's got plenty of time till he'll open his eyes."

"He hasn't been the first kit to open them early, Silverscale."

"We've got a while yet, and I'm right here for him anyway. If he's opened his eyes I'll know, because if he's anything like I was he'll be clamouring for milk!"

"Well, I suppose so."

"This time he's my kit, Frostyflight. I know better."

Oceankit shifted his weight as he stirred in his sweet-tainted bedding of fresh moss and pigeon feathers. It lingered with his mother's warm, inviting scent. The gushing, milky odours of the nursery glided to his nose. He weakly batted his paw at his face.

"Also, it's about time your charges left the nursery soon. They're getting more and more rough when they play. Could you warn them to be careful around Oceankit?"

"Patience, Silverscale. I'll tell them everything they need to know."

Oceankit began to feel more and more intrigued. He rolled over in his moss, straining his ears to catch some morsels of the queens' conversation.

"Have you begin thinking about possible mentors yet?"

Oceankit felt around in the darkness. He couldn't see anything. His eyelids felt sticky and drawn shut, and he didn't quite feel like opening them yet, but he could feel the empty space around him. Where was his mother?

 _Have you begun thinking about possible mentors yet?_ That had been his mother's soft, gently voice. It came from far away. His mother wasn't with him. Why? Oceankit groped around in the blackness for the touch of her silky fur, but only cold air chilled him. He was hungry and his throat felt dry at the want of milk. Most importantly, he wanted to feel his mother's comforting presence around him.

"Actually, I have. I better go to Sleekstar and ask her what she thinks."

Oceankit heard his mother's voice reply. "Well, go on…who are they? You can tell me."

"I've been thinking. Sunkit is probably more troublesome than her brother, so maybe Cragstone's sensible attitude would be good for her. But will the Clan be alright with her being mentored by her father? It's unusual."

"I suppose so. But maybe he could inspire her to be more dignified. I'm sure Sleekstar would be fine with it. After all, she _is_ your daughter."

"Yes, I hope so."

"And what about Ravenkit? He's more timid?"

"I'm a bit tied for him, actually. I would be happy with any senior, respected warrior. I think both Pebblewhisker and Sharkfin would be good choices."

"Pebblewhisker is a very good choice. And, of course, Sharkfin is too."

"As well as that— Wait, you might want to turn back to Oceankit, Silverscale. He's shifting a bit."

Oceankit's heart began to thump. He lay still, straining his ears in anticipation.

"No he's not, he's perfectly fine—fast asleep, the sweet mite. Probably just wriggling about a bit in his dreams."

"He'll open his eyes soon, mark my words."

"No he won't." His mother's voice purred. "I bet we've got days yet until he does."

"I feel you might want to go back to him. He'll be awake and hungry soon."

"Look at him, Frostyflight! He's just asleep! Trust me, he hasn't got it in him tonne crawling about in want of food, or opening his eyes."

Oceankit stiffened. His mother didn't think he was awake, or that he could open his eyes. Well, he could prove her wrong. He could sneak up on her! His paws tickled in glee. _I bet I can do all that stuff easily._

His mind still pricked in curiosity. What did his mother look like? How big was the nursery? What had his mother and that other she-cat been taking about before, and who was she? He remembered the other cat talking about mentors for two cats. Sunkit and Ravenkit. Who were they?

 _I just have to open my eyes!_ he thought. His muzzle twitched and he tried to blink his sleepy eyelids. They felt heavy, and covered with goo. He tried to lift them, and felt tired as he did so. Maybe his mother was right. He didn't want to open his eyes so much now if it meant so much effort.

 _Just hurry up and do it!_ Oceankit strained in effort. Weak, filtering strands of light began to seep into his view. He felt blinded by them as his eyes widened. Blinking rapidly, he turned over to face the dark side of the nursery.

 _That's better,_ he thought as his vision adjusted. The world was much less bright now. Slowly, as slow as the creep of a snail, the features of the nursery were becoming clearer. The place was still dark, but he could make out a ring of bushy stuff a long, long way away from him. _Is that bramble?_

He stirred to face upward, and had to stop himself from gasping aloud. The roof of the nursery was so high up! He had always imagined the warm, milky den to be tight and cosy, but it was as big and hollow as… As… He fumbled for words in his mind. It was massive!

Trying not to face the blinding sunlight of the nursery entrance, he scrambled up weakly and paused, tasting the musty air.

He could make out the outline of two she-cats, talking away on the far side of the nursery. They loomed far ahead of Oceankit, unaware of his blinking presence. One of the she-cats was a pure, graceful white, while the other one was a silver tabby with black stripes running down her back.

"Beechpaw is doing very well with his apprentice duties," meowed the white one. "But he's a bit clumsy with mouse bile. The other day I thought Thirstypool was going to bite his head off."

"Speaking of elders," the silver tabby replied, "it's about time some of the apprentices started to pay a bit more respect to Weaselclaw, Thistletail and Thirstypool. Some of them have been neglecting ether tick duties."

Oceankit stiffened. That was his mother's voice!

She's so beautiful, he thought. What did he look like? I want to look just like her.

"Actually, I saw them both say, yesterday, that they wanted to see Sleekstar in her den," the white queen replied. "Do you think it was about that?"

"Probably," agreed Oceankit's mother.

"Who are the elders?" Oceankit asked out loud by mistake, forgetting his intention to creep up on his mother.

Silverscale turned her head in surprise, evidently not expecting to see her kit awake. Her eyes faced Oceankit for the first time, round and liquid blue. "Oceankit!" she exclaimed.

The white queen flashed her a knowing look. "See? I told you so, didn't I?" she purred. "Some kits are early risers."

Silverscale hurried up and ran to Oceankit, ducking down to give him a big, warm lick on the head. "You'll be so cold!" she gasped, nuzzling his fur. "My poor kit."

Oceankit shrank away from his mother. "Mom, I'm fine!" he meowed hurriedly, embarrassed. He didn't want the other queen to think that his mother spoiled him.

Silverscale licked him again and looked up, surprised. "You're sure you're fine? Aren't you hungry?"

Oceankit shook his head persistently. "I want to know who the elders are."

Silverscale and the other she-cat exchanged a look of twinkling eyes. Oceankit peered at their shining orbs. What were they thinking? The tip of their mouth was twitching. Were they…smiling?

"Well," mewed the white queen briskly, "we've got one determined little cat here, haven't we?"

Silverscale purred, amused. "He'll be challenging Sleekstar next for her leadership, Frostyflight!"

The white queen—Frostyflight—looked down fondly on Oceankit, with kindness in her blue eyes. "He reminds me of my Sunkit," she mewed. "You'll be close friends, I bet. But anyway, maybe we should introduce him to the elders' den?"

Oceankit's ears pricked with glee. _Finally!_ His curiosity would be satisfied.

Silverscale sighed and nodded, giving in. She raised her beautiful tabby head and curled her tail up, rising onto her four legs. "Alright, but it'll only be a short trip, Oceankit, okay? Thirstypool might be in a grumpy mood and you're probably very hungry."

Oceankit nodded happily and swept his gaze to the nursery entrance. Bright light was washing the entire space. Suddenly, the light didn't seem so painfully bright anymore. Curious, he bounded forward, tripping upon his own front paws.

 _Whoah!_ Oceankit's heart hammered as his face crashed forward.

"Watch out!" A pair of large jaws rushed down like lightning and scooped up his scruff just before his muzzle could plummet into the hard ground.

"Careful." His mother readied him carefully on his paws.

Oceankit nodded quickly, his fur on end. _That was scary!_ He uncertainly stepped forward on his paws. Were his mother and Frostyflight laughing at him to themselves now? _I'll be careful in future._

More carefully now, letting Silverscale and Frostyflight go first, he followed the two she-cats nervously out of the nursery. Many overwhelming, beautiful scents wafted into his nose, and he blinked as he scampered out into the clearing. He almost gasped. _The clearing's massive!_ Suddenly, the huge nursery only seemed like a tiny amount of space. Dust and rock swept warmly into the camp, with sunlight pooling on the rocks. Tall ridges towered higher than anything he had ever imagined, with large, looming hole in the wall, and prickly, vibrant green bushes.

Oceankit let his breath be taken away. Were they the dens?

Silverscale flicked her tail, amused at his wide eyes. "Come on," she called from behind, twisting her head.

Oceankit skipped forward and skirted around her legs, careful not to get tangled. "Is this how big the world is?" he breathed, his ears flattened in beauty. He had never imagined it to be so huge!

Frostyflight purred. "That's only RiverClan camp, silly," she mewed, chuckling. "Wait till you're taken round the territory."

Oceankit's heart skipped a beat as the queens suddenly turned sharply and led him, tails bobbing, to a narrow, prickly entrance if bramble interwoven with reed. His pads felt hot on the ground where the sun had warmed the stone.

He scampered underneath the entrance curiously, ears pricked. _Wow!_ Pulse rushing, his eyes lifted to see two great shapes in the dimmer light. He instantly felt more natural in the darkness. It was all he had ever known up until now. _The sunlight outside was beautiful, but it still hurt my eyes._

He blinked. One of the shapes was snoring in the gloom. His spine hair pricked. This den didn't smell like the nursery. The nursery was warm and full of the confusion tying scents of kit-fur and milk. This place smelt…different.

"Is this the elders' den?" he squeaked, bounding high on his paws.

His mother nodded. "Yes, shush," she whispered, gently prodding the larger of the two shapes with her paw. Almost at once the deep, grumbling snoring stopped, and the eyelid in front of Oceankit moved. The kit squeaked in surprise, staring at a large amber iris.

The cat snorted and lifted his head up, shaking his fur. "What is it, Silverscale?" he mumbled, half-asleep.

The queen was already turning her body to face the den entrance. "It's fine," she meowed. "Go back to sleep."

The cat once more let his eyes droop, but Iceankit got there first. "Are you the elders?" he cried loudly. Excitement fizzed through his paws. He wanted to learn all about these cats, not leave them alone to sleep! He wouldn't let the opportunity slip through his paws.

The other cat twitched and got up, yawning. "Is this the kit, Silverscale?" she asked, batting her paw.

Silverscale straightened and licked her chest with pride. "Yes." Her blue eyes moved outside. "We're very sorry in disturbing you. I'll bring Oceankit to visit another day."

Oceankit soared in disappointment. _Oh no!_

The she-cat who must have been an elder shook her head. "No, Silverscale," she rasped. "Don't take the kit away. I've been bored all afternoon. I'll enjoy some young company for once."

Oceankit's hopes dashed up again at once. "Yes please!" he cried.

"Eh? What's all the racquet here?" The other elder, the brown tomcat, scratched his ear. "Surely an old fella can enjoy a few hours of peace now and then, surely?"

"Mind your tongue, Weaselclaw," the she-cat snapped. "It's Silverscale's firstborn here."

Weaselclaw licked his teeth. "Really? Congratulations, then."

Silverscale flattened her ears. "Will you really not mind keeping him here for a while?"

The she-cat twitched her whiskers, amused. She cast a sly glance at her companion. "Oh, we'll keep him excited with plenty of stories."

"That's right." The tom, Weaselclaw, straightened. "Because no one tells old tales like elders!"

"I know, I know, well said, Weaselclaw."

"Precisely."

Silverscale looked relieved. "Really? Thank you."

Frostyflight licked her denmate. "Come on, lets go. Oceankit is in good paws."

Oceankit watched in disbelief as his mother and Frostyflight left. He spun round to face the two elders, a huge smile on his face. He was so lucky! _I get to see the elders on my first day out!_

Thistletail purred hoarsely. "Well, kit, lets get started. First of all, tell us your name."

There was no hesitation in Oceankit's mew. "Oceankit."

"Oceankit." Weaselclaw flattened his ears in approval. "A well-chosen name. It suits your eyes well."

Oceankit blinked. His own eyes? He tried to look at them, but only ended up with a crossed gaze and a look of concentration. "Why does my name suit my eyes?"

"Because they're blue, like the ocean," Weaselclaw answered. "The ocean is a huge body of water in the sun-drown place."

Dizzying questions spun in Oceankit's mind. He wanted to ask what a body of water was, what he looked like, and what the sun-drown place was, but his spinning mind was interrupted by the she-cat.

"My name is Thistletail, and this is Weaselclaw." She puffed out her chest fur proudly. "We're elders. That means we're the wisest cats in the Clan. The wisest cats in RiverClan. Even _Sleekstar_ goes to us for advice sometimes!"

Oceankit's paws carried him in circles around the two elders. _Clan? RiverClan? Sleekstar?_

"There are four Clans that live around the lake," Weaselclaw explained. "Each Clan is a group of cats that live together in one camp. Sometimes we fight in battle, but mostly, each Clan just hunts in their one boundaries peacefully."

Thistletail curled her tail with a bright look in her eyes. Fierce pride burned in her gaze, making Oceankit impressed. "We're RiverClan. We stay full-fed even in the harshest of leaf-bares, because we prey on fish in the river. Even though every Clan claims to be the best, RiverClan is actually the most noble."

Oceankit's eyes were round in amazement. "We're always full-fed? Even in really harsh leaf-bares? Wow!" _I'm so proud to be in RiverClan already! Even though I have no idea what a leaf-bare is._

"Every Clan has a leader," continued Weaselclaw. "Our leader is Sleekstar."

 _Leader_. The word felt regal in Oceankit's mind. Was it fun to be leader? The word was on the tip of his tongue and he suddenly felt an incredible urge to say it. " _Leader_ ," he repeated slowly, in awe. "What does the _leader_ do?"

"They make sure the Clan is being run well," Thistletail meowed. "They oversee the training of the kits and apprentices, appoint mentors, and check that the warriors are bringing back enough fresh-kill for everyone. Sometimes they have to make important decisions—like whether the Clan should go into battle or not. If they do, the leader must be the strongest and bravest fighter. They have to make just decisions and hold the ceremonies for all the kits and apprentices. As well as that, they speak for the Clan at the Gathering every moon. They represent the entire Clan as a figurehead."

Thistletail stopped in satisfaction, seeing Oceankit's disbelief. Wild thoughts were coursing through the young kit. _The leader runs the entire Clan? That must be so hard!_ And they had to speak at _Gatherings_ too. He wondered if they ever got tongue-tied. _If I'm ever leader, I'll make sure I never get tongue-tied!_ Making important decisions sounded like fun. Oceankit would be fair and kind to every cat. He would also be the best fighter _. I want to be leader!_

He looked up at the elders. "Can I be leader?"

Thistletail chuckled. "Oh no, not yet, little kit. You have to become an apprentice and go through all your training first, and pass your warrior assessment. Then you have to hung and care for the Clan every day, to be elected deputy. You have to pass many hard moons and survive the harshest conditions. _Then_ , maybe if you're lucky, you can be leader."

Weaselclaw looked amused. "Sounds like much?" he purred.

Oceankit spun round and looked up, determined. A bright, determined fire blazed in his eyes. "I don't care. I'll do all of that and more. My name is Oceankit and I am a member of RiverClan, the greatest Clan. I will be the best warrior. And one day, I want to be leader."


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

It was a calm, sunny day. The world seemed calm with blooming green life. Oceanpelt lounged in the sun, absorbing the last of the greenleaf weather.

A thick-pelted white tom was waiting near the edge of camp, scanning the area around him. "Does anyone else want to volunteer for a hunting patrol?"

Another cat, small and wiry, dipped his head. "Thank you, Whitewhisker. It was very kind of you to offer to lead a hunting patrol."

Whitewhisker flashed his gaze gratefully toward the other cat. "It's no problem, Toadfur."

Oceanpelt stirred his gaze. He had come to WindClan yesterday, and, excluding when Feathershine treated his wounds, he had been resting ever since. That night, like the WindClan warriors, he had slept under the cold starless sky, feeling the warm wind ruffle the tips of his fur. Although the experience had been refreshing, he missed having comfortable reeds and feathers below him as bedding, as well as the warmth of a bramble bush around him.

"I can come along, Whitewhisker," he offered. To be honest, with nothing to do all morning but gossip with the elders and the queens and clean out the dens, he felt completely bored.

Whitewhisker glanced at the wrapping of cobwebs around Oceanpelt's chest. "Are you sure? Aren't you meant to be healing?"

Oceanpelt stretched his sleepy limbs. "Honestly, I think a little bit of exercise would do me good. And I feel so useless lying about all day doing nothing but eating your food. I would feel better if I caught something."

"We're providing food for you out of honor for the service you gave our Clan," Whitewhisker responded, twitching his whiskers. "You don't need to feel bad."

 _I have to explore. There might be something lurking out on WindClan territory that I need to warn them about!_ "No, it's fine," he mewed casually. "I love hunting."

A ragged gray tabby peered at him. "Have you ever hunted on the moors before?"

Feeling stiff, Oceanpelt flattened his ears. Back in RiverClan, he had occasionally hunted land prey in leaf-bare when the river and lake froze over, but he had never chased rabbits on the moors. "Well…" he began.

The tabby purred. "No? Oh well. We'll teach you––that's if we're lucky enough to find a rabbit."

Oceanpelt got up, feeling a pang of satisfaction. It felt good to stretch out his paws a bit. "Thanks," he mewed gratefully to Whitewhisker.

Whitewhisker nodded. "Come on, let's show you around."

As their paws lightly padded through the uneven slopes of the windy moorland, Oceanpelt gazed around. The sun warmed their backs and made the grass glitter. Looking at the moor, he noticed that a lot of the grass looked slightly straggly and dry, with a yellow tinge to it.

The gray tabby she-cat caught his gaze and sighed, her voice deep with the scars of hunger. "I can see what you're thinking. Yes, it's been a dry season, and the sun has heated up our territory. As a consequence of that, the rabbits and hares almost never come out of their warrens, except to drink. They only ever come out at night, since it's too hot even at dawn and dusk. Unlike the other territories, we don't have trees to keep us cool."

As she spoke, each one of her ribs showed painfully. Her speckled green eyes glinted.

Oceanpelt stared toward the ground. "Oh, I'm sorry."

She shook her head suddenly. "It's not your fault."

Toadfur waved his tail suddenly, after the camp had completely faded from view. From what Oceanpelt had figured out, Toadfur was Clan deputy. "Look! Stop. Can you smell that?"

Oceanpelt, despite not being used to the smells of WindClan, knew the scent of flesh well enough to easily detect this. There was a faint trace of rabbit carried n the breeze. His heart leapt. "Have we found one already?"

Whitewhisker nodded, lowering his voice. His eyes shone with the prospect of food for his Clan. "We were lucky," he murmured. "Come on; it's this way. I'll show you how we hunt rabbits."

They all unsheathed their claws in unison and crept through the heather-smelling grass, sliding into a silent position. Whitewhisker slipped ahead, catching sight of a small brown dot in the distance, no bigger than a flea to them. Getting as close as he could, he scraped his claws against the ground, keeping close to the heather so it would mask his musky scent. Eventually, when he was only a few fox-lengths away, the rabbit must have sensed something, and turned its head slightly. Then Whitewhisker leapt out at it.

The rabbit turned its small body and ran for its life, paws skimming over the hills as fast as lightning. Oceanpelt gasped as the other cats in the patrol dived forward to, chasing it a few paces behind Whitewhisker. He hurried up to follow them, muscles straining as he galloped. _RiverClan cats aren't built for running!_ he thought. He admired the WindClan warriors' lean muscles and hardened, fiery expressions as hey pelted on, but his own limbs were starting to hurt. Panting, he lagged behind as Whitewhisker began to gain on the rabbit.

"Go on, Whitewhisker!" he began to call encouragingly. The rabbit swerved to the side to muffle itself in a patch of heather, and the WindClan cats cut across to chase it. Even though the critter was smuggled away by the strands of purple heather, its ears only just poked out, making it visible. Whitewhisker sped on like a powerful tornado, too fast for his other Clanmates to keep up with. Eventually they both burst out of the heather, Whitewhisker with gleaming claws and a hungry expression in his eyes.

He leapt forward, pouncing on the rabbit and scoring his claws through its skin, ending the chase. The rabbit squealed in pain, squirming as energy left its body. Whitewhisker nipped down and gave it a killing bite to the neck. The rabbit fell still.

Oceanpelt and the others skidded to a halt, gazing at Whitewhisker expectantly. The warrior stood up, his mangled, broken catch hanging limply in his bloodstained teeth. The rabbit's ears were drooping low. The white tom dropped it.

"Thank you, StarClan, for this kill," he meowed solemnly.

The gray tabby praised him. "That was amazing, Whitewhisker! Honestly, I've never seen such a fast rabbit, and you caught it."

"Thank you, Brightclaw," Whitewhisker replied. "We were lucky to find it so close to sunhigh. I hope we catch a few more. Broadstar always pretends he's never hungry so other can have his food, but it's obvious he's always hungry. As a leader, he needs strength."

Brightclaw nodded, flicking her tail. "Let's catch something just for him."  
"If we're lucky, more creatures might be out, making the most of the wet grass from the rain two nights ago," Toadfur commented.

Oceanpelt was deeply impressed. "Let's go, then!" he announced cheerfully.

They made their way toward the ThunderClan border, where a stream divided the territories. A breeze began to lift stirring the heather and the gorse, and carrying their sweet scents across the land. Toadfur sidled up to Oceanpelt at the back.

"So," the deputy began, looking at Oceanpelt with a friendly look on his face. "How are you finding WindClan then?"

Oceanpelt strolled briskly along, staring at the sun. "I like it here. Although I'm not used to all these long runs, the moors smell sweet in the morning, and they're beautiful at sunset."

"What do you think of our customs?" Toadfur asked.

Oceanpelt shrugged. "I find sleeping outside strange, but rabbit meat is tasty."

Toadfur sighed, the visions of age and generation haunting his mew. "It's been a long greenleaf, and a hard one too. And now that Deerleap is so gravely injured, he can't hunt, and we need to deal with another less warrior."

Oceanpelt, upon hearing the word _another_ , pricked his ears curiously. "What do you mean?"

"A warrior called Eaglewing has gone missing. He's Longleap's brother."

"Since when?"

"Yesterday morning."  
Oceanpelt had indeed heard passing rumors during the last two days, about a warrior vanishing right after he had been made a warrior three days ago. He wondered why the Clan seemed so calm about it. Right now, he suspected that Sleekstar must have sent out several search parties for him, at least.

"Are you particularly worried?" he asked with an anxious tone to his voice.

Toadfur stared straight on ahead and sighed, closing his eyes. "Slightly. A day and a half is unusually long for him. It's not the first time he's disappeared though."

A dark sense began to creep up Oceanpelt's spine. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, it's just that he vanishes quite a lot," Toadfur replied. "Sometimes he just gets annoyed at everyone else and spends the day hiding away somewhere sulking. He's a bit grumpy sometimes. I wonder what made him so mad this time."

They stopped in their tracks. "A pheasant!" Brightclaw exclaimed quietly. "We're really lucky today!"

Toadfur nudged Oceanpelt quietly in the nook of his flank. "You can try and catch it," he promised. "Just do as Whitewhisker did before. I'm sure that you've hunted plenty of birds before."  
Oceanpelt felt a small stone squirm at the bottom of his stomach. "Of course," he replied, smiling warmly, but in his mind doom seemed to be echoing. _I can't hunt birds!_ his thoughts raced, along to the rhythm of his pounding heart. A silent roar seemed to pump in his ears swimming through his veins. _Especially not in the open exposure like this._

He looked up to see Brightclaw, Toadfur and Whitewhisker all looking at him expectantly. With a deep sigh to calm himself, he repeated comforting words thrice in his mind. _I can do anything, if Whitewhisker just did it. I can do anything, if Whitewhisker just did it. I can do anything, if Whitewhisker just did it._

He swelled his feathery chest fur and bunched up his muscles. "Well, I'll do my best," he told the WindClan cats.

He slid through the long grass, avoiding getting distracted by a colourful yellow butterfly hopping from glass blade to grass blade in front of him. Ignoring the yellow spot in front of him, he crept through the grass, hackles constantly sifting. Feeling like a ThunderClan cat, he advanced to a point where the pheasant was tangibly close.

He crouched with a spray of dandelions close to his face. The breeze-rocked seeds sawed gently, smelling of pollen. Oceanpelt felt their nauseating smell tickling his nose. Suddenly his lungs tightened. In a heartbeat he closed his eyes uncontrollably and sneezed.

The pheasant, with a cry, raised its colorful turquoise head and leapt away in a flush of feathers. Oceanpelt barely had time to see it fly ahead before Whitewhisker leapt ahead, sinking its claws into the pheasant's wings. The injured bird called out in pain and plummeted to the ground, unable to fly. Knowing it could not leap into the air again, it raised its legs at swift speeding began to run for its life. Brightclaw and Toadfur were already ahead, and Toadfur eventually caught up to it and cupped his paws to it couldn't escape. He finished it off by biting its neck.

Oceanpelt drew himself up and padded to Toadfur, mind reeling. His ears were ducked down in shame, and his pelt felt very hot. "Sorry, Toadfur," he apologized at once, flattening his fur. _You fish-brain, Oceanpelt! To give yourself away like that._

Whitewhisker looked worried. "Next time, be more careful, Oceanpelt," he reproached. "That pheasant almost got away."

Oceanpelt nodded meekly, ashamed if himself. "I'm so sorry, that was stupid of me." _No! I don't normally miss anything! This doesn't feel right!_

Toadfur purred. "It's okay, Oceanpelt. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes."

Brightclaw nodded. "All that matters is that we've got it now, and it can feed almost half the Clan!"

Whitewhisker blinked and sighed, shaking his head to clear it. "I know. I'm sorry I got annoyed at you, Oceanpelt. It's just…" His voice trailed off weakly and Oceanpelt coud see a faint rim of tiredness haunting his eyes.

Toadfur flicked his tail amiably. "We've got two pieces of fresh-kill already, and one of them is huge. Let's go and hunt a bit more, and then we can report back to Broadstar."

They set off again, toward the faintly-approaching skyline of dense trees that marked the ThunderClan border. The sun was descending down the horizon, slipping down from the point it had been at at noon.

A fresh breeze arose and blew through Oceanpelt's fur. He smelled the scent of succulent rabbit carried in the wind, and stopped at the same time as his comrades. Their eyes were all shining at the prospect of more fresh-kill.

The rabbit was tucked up in the grass, hopping about unaware of any predators lurking about. Whitewhisker whispered to Oceanpelt. "Do you want to try?" His voice was low and hushed.

Oceanpelt's face glowed at the prospect of redeeming himself. If he caught this rabbit, he could truly say that he had been useful to the WindClan cats, and they would surely forget about his previous miss.

He nodded. "Sure," he meowed. "This one's mine."

He sprang into action, claws tearing through the grass. The rabbit sensed his coming and leapt for its life, terrifyingly racing through the grass. Oceanpelt increased his speed, pushing his legs. The wind blew in his face and tugged his fur pleasantly and he felt exhilaration hauling him on. _Is this what it's like to be a WindClan cat?_ he thought. _It doesn't seem so bad._

He was getting closer to the rabbit. His eyes were almost level with its bobbing, fluffy tail. Behind him, he heard the encouraging shouts of WindClan cats praying him on.

He focused on the chase, eyes burning with hope. He imagined the taste of victory in his throat. Losing himself in concentration, he failed to noticed the sound of his companions' pawsteps dying away, or their warning yowls. Instead, the noise was replaced by the gurgle of a nearby water. Oceanpelt unconsciously plundered through the trees and leapt over a shallow stream, still chasing the rabbit.

Now that undergrowth was springing up in dense clumps, he lost the speech had had while haring over a flat expanse. He was forced to slow down so as to not collide with the bramble thickets.

The rabbit took advantage of his decrease in velocity, and sprang through a clump of ferns before disappearing around a bend.

Oceanpelt skidded to a halt, and panted. _Fox dung!_ he thought. _I was so close!_

He told himself not to give up yet. _It could still be hiding somewhere._

Heart pounding furiously, he snuck up the rounded corer by a huge, twisted oak and blinked.

"Prey-stealers!"

He was standing face-to-face with a ThuderClan patrol.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

A small dark brown tom stood fiercely at the front, brandishing his teeth. In his jaws lay the rabbit Oceanpelt had been chasing, brutally killed and hanging limply, clearly dead.

He dropped it onto the ground. "What do you think you're doing, crossing the border so boldly?"

Shock rippled clearly on Oceanpelt's face. A stone seemed to hit him and he simultaneously felt as if he had fallen into an ice-cold river, chilling his bones and sending shivers down his spine. _I crossed the border into ThunderClan!_ he realized. Horror dawned on him.

 _As I chased the rabbit, I must have gone over the scent line without even noticing. That's why the WindClan cats were calling out to me!_ His mind hovered over the memory of running freely, subconsciously remembering his previously-ignored companions' calls.

His blood flow began to race and his heart thumped heavily, but he smoothed his fur in time, telling himself to be calm. What would Riverstar, the first leader of RiverClan, have done in this situation? How would any wise, noble leader react? He took a deep, shaking breath. Well, the mistake was clearly his, so he might as well be honorable and apologize.

He faced his opposition bravely, lifting his chin so his face was illuminated where the sun poked through the dense canopy of trees. "I'm sorry," he announced, dipping his head. "I didn't mean to go into your territory, I promise."

Another cat stepped out and hissed. "You crossed the boundary into our land! As well as that, you chased the rabbit well into our territory! Don't you know that if it crosses the scent line, then it becomes ThunderClan prey?"

Oceanpelt's insides burned with shame. He nodded weakly. "It was an accident, and I'll leave straightaway."

The brown tom swept his paw possessively over the rabbit's corpse. His amber eyes flashed in the sun. "Don't think you can get to keep the rabbit."

Regret built up inside Oceanpelt. As much as he hated giving away WindClan's precious food, he couldn't afford to start up a fight - he was outnumbered four to one, as well as the fact that he was still gravely injured from his battle yesterday with the dogs on the moor. Also, the catch was now rightfully ThunderClan's. It had gone over the boundary, and it was a ThunderClan warrior who had killed it. Embarrassment churned inside Oceanpelt. He had failed to catch that pheasant earlier on, and now not only had he failed to catch this rabbit but he had possibly gotten WindClan into trouble as well!

"I tell you, it was an accident. You keep the rabbit, I go, and no harm was ever done."

Another cat growled. "It's not like that. You were careless and disrespected our borders. Is this what cats like you are taught to do and how they are taught to behave?" She brandished her teeth. "You still broke the warrior code!"

The other cat arched his spine and exchanged looks with his Clanmate. "Don't talk to him about the warrior code; can't you see he's not a Clan cat? He smells slightly of the moors, but I can't recognise him, and he carries the scent of rogue."

Something in Oceanpelt's mind stirred. _No WindClan cats ca recognize me either! How come it's also the same with ThunderClan?_

The she-cat gave him a slightly mocking look. "I suppose that's true."

The head of the patrol, the small cat who Oceanpelt recognized as Duskwhisker, flicked his tail. "You too!" he ordered. "Be quiet, we don't want to start a fight." He turned toward Oceanpelt. "Now here, accident or not, you were careless, and we won't let you go unpunished."

A small, nervous shiver pressed to the back of Oceanpelt's throat. He felt like a weak, helpless twig being whirled around in a gale of fear. He gulped. What would the ThunderClan cats do to him now?

He caught the eye of a fourth cat, who he had subconsciously noticed previously due to her stark white pelt that stood out against the trees, but never given much thought to. She blinked at him, revealing two pools of deep, bright blue eyes. The expression on her face was surprised and ashamed, and she quickly loomed away and kept silent.

Oceanpelt blinked. She was certainly very beautiful. But he didn't recognise he ThunderClan cat. Who was she?

The ThunderClan she-cat who had spoken out before strutted forward. "We'll give you one last chance!" she spat. "Leave for good or we'll tear you to pieces!"

"Hey!" A piercing shout came from behind. The steady pounding of paws thrumming relentlessly on the ground jogged Oceanpelt into reality. Whitewhisker's flying snow-colored fur melted into his vision, followed by the pelts of Toadfur and Brightclaw.

Whitewhisker threw his plumy tail between the ThunderClan cats and Oceanpelt protectively. "How dare you!" he growled. "You leave him right there!"

Oceanpelt darted back, feeling surprisingly touched by Whitewhisker's devoted fierceness. He had previously thought that the loyal tom was cross with him for missing the previous catch, and even more so after this, but he was still fighting in his defence. _Is this the true loyalty of WindClan cats?_

The ThunderClan deputy calmly narrowed his eyes. "Is that rogue a part of your Clan?"

Oceanpelt's fur stiffened, and his coat began to bristle. Tension slid through the air like invisible mist, blinding the increasingly angry cats.

Whitewhisker's muzzle creased in fury. "What's your problem? It's none of your business."

Toadfur rested his tail-tip sternly on his Clanmate's tail. "I'll take it from here," he warned.

Whitewhisker stepped back. "Yes, Toadfur," he whispered.

Toadfur rested his shoulders calmly, though Oceanpet could see by his prickling spine fur that he was struggling not to get irritated. "We didn't mean to trespass, so you can keep our rabbit, and we'll simply leave and not return."

The ThunderClan tom flexed his muscles. " _Your_ rabbit? It's ours anyway, whether you _let_ us have it or not."

Toadfur let a growl rise in his throat. "That's not the point. The point is–"

"Look, I didn't mean to cause this much trouble." Oceanpelt hastily stepped forward, wincing as he saw Brightclaw glare at him. He turned to Duskwhisker. "I was the one to make this mistake. Take it out on me instead, not the others."

Duskwhisker shook his head impatiently. "That's not what we want to do! If one WindClan cat is irresponsible, the whole Clan is irresponsible and deserves to be punished. You can be sure that we'll report this at the Gathering next full-moon. We'll make fun of WindClan."

Brightclaw let out a petulant hiss. "What are you getting at?" Toadfur growled. "Fine, just let us go and stop being so aggressive!"

Brightclaw nodded. "Thin-skinned ThunderClan cats," she muttered under her breath. "They think that whenever some cat breaks their precious warrior code, it's a deliberate scheme to hurt them!'

The ThunderClan she-cat lashed out a paw. "I heard that!" she yowled.

Duskwhisker gave her a reprimanding look. "That's enough. There shall be no bloodshed here today."

The ThunderClan she-cat looked indignant. She dipped her head in respect toward her deputy, but her eyes were still brimming with anger. "I understand, Duskwhisker, but we shouldn't let these cocky WindClan cats simply walk away unharmed."

"Let's chase them out, and show 'em real ThunderClan fighting moves!" growled the feisty young tom.

A voice fearfully spoke up, from the back. "I don't think we should make a big deal of this." It was the shy-looking white she-cat that Oceanpelt had noticed before.

He felt a rush of gratitude. _Thank StarClan_ some _cat is willing to vouch for me!_

Duskwhisker flicked his tail at the she-cat. "Come on, Moonshade. You know he broke the warrior code!"

Moonshade stepped forward. Her eyes were two huge, blue discs as pure as the full moon, round with sympathy and sorrow. "He might have broken the warrior code, but the warrior code also states that true warriors are honorable, kind and forgiving." She wrapped her feathery tail around her neatly-tipped paws.

The ThunderClan tom bared his fangs. "Fine. So? What do you want us to do then?" He looked expectantly at Moonshade with a bold, searching gaze.

Moonshade dipped her head and flattened her ears. Her whole body seemed to be taken in to a spasm of rigidness, and she closed her eyes tightly, as if trying to ignore pain. Tiny folds began to crease as her face contorted and she was racked by shivers. Everyone rested their eyes on her in mystery and wonder, curious. Finally, as if she had made up her mind, the white she-cat shot open her eyes and blinked rapidly, heavily breathing. "I think–" she whispered, seeming afraid. "I think we should just let them go free."

Everyone stared at her in shock. Disbelief and doubt coursed through Oceanpelt's body. Was this she-cat even real? _She looked so nervous just now, as if she might explode with fear. Yet she seems to be supporting me._

The other ThunderClan she-cat hissed in contempt. "What, just let them go free as birds, just like this? What would Crystalstar say to that?"

Duskwhisker twitched his whiskers, eyes narrowing in frustration. "I think Moonshade's right," he decided finally, tail-tip twitching restlessly. "There's nothing more we can do here." He shot a glare at Toadfur. "But we're sure to mention this at the Gathering. Don't think you've got off scot-free. And next time one of ours patrols catches a WindClan cat even _sniffing_ our border–" he flexed his muscles, "–we won't hold back on a fight, and in the current state of hunger you're in, you'll be turned to crow-food."

At the words _the current state you're in_ , the WindClan cats immediately bristled in fury. Whitewhisker hissed out and put a paw forward boldly. "How dare you? You think your forest makes you strong? Outside your squirrel-worlds and trees, you're as weak as exposed kits!"

The young tom from ThunderClan spat something back. "You border-invading disrespectful rabbit-breaths dare you be rude to us, after everything you've done?'

"Why do ThunderClan cats have to make such a big deal of everything? So one cat put a few steps beyond your scent line. So what? Mention all you like at the Gathering, just hurry up and let us go!" Brightclaw growled.

Oceanpelt watched in despair. All of this because of him! _If it weren't for my stupid mistake, none of this would have happened! I'm not only a hunting failure now, but a shame to WindClan as well, after everything they've done for me! They might even kick me out, and what will I do then?_

"It's not like that! You've broken the warrior code!" the ThunderClan tomcat spat.

"Your warrior code, ooh, ThunderClan's precious warrior code!"

"You're the prey stealers!"

Whitewhisker raised his hackles high and drew back his teeth. His whole body seemed to be throbbing with the urge to fight. "Watch your mouth, young warrior…!" he growled, eyes almost bursting wth fury.

"Right! That's enough!" The ThunderClan she-cat unsheathed her chunky silver claws and scraped them through the earth, hissing. Levelling her head with her waving tail, she cried, "If you want a fight, then you've got one!"

The warrior seemed on the actual brink of charging at each other, and Oceanpelt's lungs tightened in horror. "Stop!" he choked, aghast. This was getting out of hand!

" _Please!_ " A screech racked the air. " _No_! I've had _enough_ of fighting!"

Oceanpelt's gaze snapped round and saw Moonshade, body shaking like a broken cat. Her eyes were closed tight, and bitter fear was scorched onto her face. She was rocking and shaking uncontrollably. "P–Please," she sobbed, turning away. The sound was followed by a series of chokes. "In ShadowClan, they fight every day. I've seen innocent cats killed because of simple skirmishes in camp, and it's– It's horrible! I've seen rivers of blood spilling outside my own _den_!"

Oceanpelt watched in shock and horror. ShadowClan? Had this cat lived in ShadowClan? It explained why he couldn't remember her ever being a part of ThunderClan. But were the horrors of ShadowClan really that atrocious? Most cats had heard legends about their vicious leader and battle-hungry ways, but for Clanmates to kill each other reoccuringly because of ordinary arguments…that was wrong!

Duskwhisker stepped back, said shamed of himself. Sighing bitterly, he placed his tail-tip reassuringly on Moonshade's shoulder. Sorrow hung in his eyes. "Moonshade, I'm sorry… I didn't know seeing this meant so much pain for you."

Moonshade turned away, her face scarred with pain. she closed her eyes. "It's fine. I'm the one who should be sorry."

The other ThunderClan she-cat tipped her head. "Listen, Moonshade," she began exasperatedly, "I understand your pain, but this cat has broken the warrior code. We can't just…let him go. That would be wrong!"

Moonshade turned slowly, and her brilliant blue eyes trembled. For a lost moment, Oceanpelt saw weak traces of bullying, battle scars, and terror stretched in her eyes. It was like a timeless battle was unravelling every time he looked into them.

She blinked. "Why can't we?" she whispered defensively. "Every cat makes mistakes."

Duskwhisker rounded his tail decisively. "Right, I agree with Moonshade. There's nothing left to say here. Let's not pursue useless battles."

The young ThunderClan tom standing next to him widened his eyes. "But–" The eager expression on his face vanished. He looked disappointed.

"No, let's go, Shaggypelt." Duskwhisker cut him off. "I know you're eager for your first battle as a warrior, but now's not the time."

Whitewhisker bared his fangs defensively. "I agree. Let's leave while we can."

The ThunderClan patrol turned on their tails and cautiously skirted back, keeping an eye on the WindClan cats to check they were leaving.

Whitewhisker snorted and led the cats away. Oceanpelt, still staring in awe at the ThunderClan cats, felt a tail-tip tug him along brutally. He snapped his head around to gaze at Brightclaw. Her eyes were narrowed and her forehead creased, glaring at him.

"Hurry _up_!" she hissed. "You're already in so much trouble."

Oceanpelt flattened his ears, feeling stiff. "Okay," he whispered, and trailed after them, paws dragging in the mud. The sun was just beginning to set as they traipsed through the thick, curly undergrowth, thorns and tendrils wrapping round their paws. Sunlight stained the sky orange, and Oceanpelt's heart hammered as he stared behind him on last time.

His eyes fell upon the mysterious white she-cat who had spoken up for him. He felt entranced with her strange behaviour.

An ominous feeling made him shiver, despite the warmth. _Who is she, and what does she want?_


	9. Chapter 8 - Special Chapter

**Chapter 8 - Special Chapter**

Whitestar's fiery gaze raked the cats around him with such power that Blackglare stiffened, and felt an impulse to sit up even taller and straighter. Heart in his throat, he silently hoped that no-cat would be focused enough to detect any traces of the fear-scent that was coming from him.

Stiffly, he cranes his neck to see Pebblewhisker sitting proudly beside him, chest fur puffed up. Wavefoam and Wetpelt were in the same position on his other side. Each of their faces were expressionless, they eyes helming with the duty that each and every warrior performed for their Clan.

Whitestar's deputy, Sleekpelt, had groomed herself even more rigorously than anyone else. Her gaze sparked fear into the eyes of her Clanmates, and she stalked to stand by her leader precariously, claws extended. Standing on the very edge of the ridge, her fur was whipped by the wind. "Welcome, RiverClan," she meowed.

Whitestar nodded before addressing his Clan. "It is tome for us to take action. ThunderClan has become a threat to us all. As they harass WindClan for more territory, our own spot as one of the four Clans around the lake is threatened. We must meet such a threat. Is there any objection siding with WindClan in this particular battle?"

There was no disagreement. Every warrior met Whitestar's gaze earnestly. Every one, including Blackglare himself. He looked into his leader's eyes intently, but shifted uneasily.

Sleekpelt let the silence ebb before she raised her head triumphantly. "Then let us fight, RiverClan!"

Wails and caterwauls were spun around the moors. Cheering for his Clan, Blackglare raised his head high and emptied out his lungs. Today, he would be the best warrior.

Whitestar looked behind him. "Then let us go," he instructed quickly. "We can waste no more time. The time t fight is ours—and it is now! Go!"

Howling, the ranks of RiverClan warriors swiftly dispersed. Blackglare was quick to follow, springing through the grass as he flew through the air. He felt a glowing aura around him, as the wind-lashed fur of his Clanmates skimmed his own.

 _This is a battle for my own Clan. A battle for me._

As he ran, Blackglare could not help but notice a queasy feeling inside his stomach. Was there something that could possible go wrong? _Why am I feeling uneasy?_

The wind in full force against his muzzle, his gaze slid to his father, and all his doubts broke away. There was nothing wrong with his battle. If his own father, Reedtail, could feel confident about this battle, so could he.

Reedtail's sleek black fur rippled with sunlight as he leapt through the tall stalks of grass and heather. His warm amber eyes reflected the pale sky. He looked majestic and wise, a noble warrior for all.

There was nothing to be concerned about, that was for sure. Blackglare cleared his mind and let his gaze roam to the fields beyond. A scene of bloodshed roared with slashing claws beyond the dip in the moors. Cats screeched and bellowed, tearing each other's fur and clawing wounds at each other.

 _Stupid ThunderClan cats_ , thought Blackglare, _having to cause all this trouble._ _For once, I have to agree with WindClan._ Hurtling on, he spotted Crystalstar and Broadstar, the two Clans' leaders, at each other's necks.

 _But that doesn't mean that WindClan furballs are of any use either. They're just undergrown scraps of fleas getting in the way. When RiverClan is the mightiest Clan, it'll be easy to dispose of them._

The pounding of pawsteps distracted his thought, and he glanced aside to see how his Clanmates were doing.

Whitestar was beside him, racing along like five Clans at once. His eyes blazed with authority and determination. "RiverClan, this is now!" he bellowed. Cries of surprise came from the ThunderClan cats as their RiverClan enemies hurtled into the battle. Blackglare dived into a whirl of flying fur, slowing down and wheeling around with his claws outstretched, adrenaline whizzing. He hardly noticed that he had sailed past a WindClan cat.

The ThunderClan cat squealed and tried to duck, but he was too slow. Blackglare's claws raked his fur like talons and sliced through his flesh.

The cat howled in pain and crouched down on his haunches to leap, but Blackglare was too fast. He sprang on his opponent easily and pinned him down, feeling weight shift beneath him as they fell. The ThunderClan tom tried to call for help, summing up all his last strength, but his captive snarled and held him down as they wrestled.

Suddenly Blackglare was knocked out of the way sharply. He gasped as the air was knocked out of him.

He stood face-to-face with WindClan she-cat. She hissed impertinently, scoring her claws through the earth, with a hostile look in her eyes. " _I_ had that warrior," she growled. "And I was doing fine before you came along. There was no need to butt in!"

The dazed ThunderClan warrior saw his chance, and, before and cat could stop him, he had rolled onto his feet and darted away in a flash.

Blackglare stood swaying on his paws, aghast. "You moron!" he spat at the WindClan cat. "Now look what you've done!"

"It's _your_ fault," the she-cat hissed. "You didn't need to think that I can't fight my own battles."

"We're on the same side, for StarClan's sake! What does it matter?"

The she-cat cast a pair of swift looks around her, her eyes resting on the spot where the ThunderClan cat's tail disappeared. "We may be allies for now," she growled, "but WindClan is still strong on its own!"

And with that, she hared away, chasing the cat she had lost.

Blackglare was left staring, shocked. Rage boiled inside his veins. _Stupid WindClan cat! Are those hare-chasers to proud and arrogant that they won't even accept help in a fight?_

Sighing to clear his chest, he smoothed his fur and looked around him on all sides. He couldn't afford to have preoccupied thoughts now. The most important thing right now was winning the battle—he could easily deal with pesky, ungrateful WindClan brats later. This was the time for ThunderClan to pay. Scanning the whole battle scene, he saw the cat's locked in a furious, intense gaze of battle. There was no sign of the cat that had escaped him just now. Where could he be? Growling, Blackglare snapped his head around to spot a pair of ThunderClan she-cats cornering Foxbite.

At least he could trust his Clanmate to be glad of his help. Teeth bared, he flashed through the huddle of teeth and claws and leapt in front of Foxbite's terrified eyes.

"Mange-pelts!" he snarled to the two she-cats, one of which was a pale, sandy-ginger tabby. The other was a darker ginger with startling blue eyes.

The tabby flashed her paw defiantly. "Oh yeah?" she snarled. "Take that!"

With that she sailed off her paws and dived at Blackglare's head. The black tom ducked, feeling claws slice through the top of his ear. He stopped himself from howling in pain. Warm blood welled above the delicate skin.

"Ha!" the tabby spat triumphantly. She was knocked off her paws by a furious Foxbite.

"You'll regret that, mouse-heart!" she screeched, clawing furiously at the ThunderClan cat's belly. Her claws etched deep gashes in the tabby's fur. The two opponent howled as they wrestled. Blackglare leapt to his Clanmate's help, but the other ThunderClan cat was too quick.

"Too slow," she taunted. Blackglare's neck hair prickled in fury, and he lashed at her muzzle in impatience. As quick as a flash, she rolled down and dived under him. Blackglare smiled to himself. He knew that trick, and how to counter-attack it.

 _Drop down and crush her flat with your weight!_ his thoughts sang. He let his paws flop and felt her gasp as the air was knocked out of her. She squirmed under him, swiping blindly. Blackglare wrestled her with his limbs, and slashed at her muzzle. The bridge of her muzzle was scarred. Squealing, she looked around for help.

Her heather-blue eyes fell on his tail. Opening her jaws, she bit on it hard. Blackglare felt pain shoot through his spine. He froze, taken by surprise.

"Stop that!" he yowled. The she-cat smiled maliciously, mouth still full as she yanked on his tail. Blackglare leapt up in her grip, trying to relief himself.

Meanwhile, Foxbite had beaten the tabby in her fight. The ThunderClan cat was chased away with snapping jaws. Now free, Foxbite wheeled around to help Blackglare, blood in her teeth. She wasn't called Foxbite for no reason.

Blackglare's opponent's eyes flashed in the sunlight. Fur caught in her jaws, she bit down harder and pulled with all her might. She tried to drag him away in panic as she saw Foxbite running toward her.

Suddenly Blackglare felt something inside his tail crack. His skin felt like ice as a burst of pain shot up his spine. "Ow!" he howled, keeling over as the pain came over him.

Foxbite was over in an instant. The fiery orange-pelted she-cat bowled the other off her feet and drove her white muzzle to the neck of the attacker. Blackglare gasped as most of the pain drained from him, and he soon back, blood roaring in his ears.

"You'll pay for that!" he bellowed, springing upon his writhing opponent. Foxbite held the dark she-cat down. The ThunderClan cat's claws gripped the other's fur, and Foxbite squealed as a chunk of her pelt was ripped off. Blackglare was over in a flash, ears hotly pressed against his head. This cat had made him look like a fool! He helped Foxbite hold her down, despite her squeaking protests.

Claws raked his nose. The cat lashed her tail as she struggled, overpowered by two cats. Her startling blue eyes shimmered. "That's enough!" she growled. "I won't give up!"

Blackglare felt her stinking ThunderClan breath warm on his muzzle. "Oh yeah?" he snarled back, his own eyes like chips of ice.

He roared as he whipped his claws out and slashed them at her face, mightily bringing his paw down. When he opened his eyes, trembling, he saw a gasping, weak figure, an ugly scar parting her face.

She quivered in fear, opening her eyes too. _She was lucky_ , Blackglare thought. _If she had closed her eyes a fraction of a heartbeat later, I would have gotten rid of one of them for sure_.

The she-cat's body was racked with trembled. Her chest whizzed up and down, up and down, in a pattern of rhythmic desperation. Her fear-scent was now almost tangible in the air. "Let me go," she wheezed, trying to get in a position that would shield her face form another blow.

Blood began to trickle from the scar that ran across her eyelid and beyond. Warm and sticky, Blackglare felt a pang of satisfaction at its scent. He didn't move.

The ThunderClan cat didn't even try to struggle free. "Please…" Her eyes shone in panic. "Let me go, I beg you!"

Blackglare reared up in triumph, victory and success marked clearly across his features. His blood churned in rage. "No!" he cackled. "This'll be one less ThunderClan fleabag to deal with—"

"Blackglare, no," Foxbite growled, barring his way. "The warrior code says we have to let her go."

Blackglare turned to stare at his Clanmate. "You too?" he snarled in disbelief.

Honesty flashed in Foxbite's clear amber eyes. "Just let her go, Blackglare. She's only fighting for her Clan. It would be wrong to kill her."

Relief seemed to course through the twitching ThunderClan cat. She exchanged looks with Blackglare, who reluctantly got out of the way. With gratitude shining in her face toward Foxbite, she stumbled up and bolted off, in the opposite direction to the rest of the battlefield.

"Go, and take your spoils of war with you!" Blackglare spat.

Foxbite sidled up to him as she stared after the dashing she-cat. "That went well, didn't it?"

Blackglare growled in annoyance. "Would've been much better if we hadn't let her get away. That would have been one less annoying ThunderClan warrior to deal with."

"But it still is, because she's running away from the battlefield," Foxbite pointed out.

Blackglare shrugged. "Whatever."

Turning away, he left his Clanmate and leapt back into the throng of the battle. To his satisfaction, his side seemed to be mostly winning, with only a couple of warriors chased away. ThunderClan, on the other hand, seemed to be slowly, slowly losing its fighters.

Blackglare scanned the battlefield swiftly for any sign of the mysterious ThunderClan cat who had escaped him earlier. His claws sank in the dirt. No, that mange-pelt wasn't getting away that easily!

Suddenly, a voice he recognized seemed to speak the IT distantly. "Stop!" the voice cried. "Stop, stop!"

Blackglare froze and angled his ears. That was the voice of his father.

No other cat seemed to have noticed it, though. The battle whirred on as if nothing had happened, like an oblivious monster with glaring eyes crushing everything in its way.

Suddenly a commanding voice echoed through the crowds. "Enough! Stop that immediately!"

All the cats seemed to skid to a halt. Blackglare's vision parted to see Whitestar charging furiously to a mangled heap of two warriors tangled over each other.

One was crushed under the other. Gurgling, spluttering noises came from the one hidden under, with tight, blunt wheezes coming from his throat.

Whitestar shook with fury. "Look what you've done!"

The cat in front moved away nervously, guilt on his face. Blackglare stiffened. The cat lying crumpled on the ground was his father! And the warrior by him was the same cat that had escaped him earlier on!

"I— I'm sorry," the ThunderClan warrior stammered. Devastation hung in his mew. "I-I— It was just— I didn't realize what I was doing—"

Whitestar's shocked gaze fell on Blackglare's father. "You went too far!"

The ThunderClan cat, a dark brown mottled tom, shuffled his paws. "I'm so sorry! I swear, it was an accident! I didn't mean to hurt him this much…" His voice trailed away.

A few more spluttering noises came from the limp cat. Then his head fell back. His claws slid out as if to hold onto something, desperately looking for something to clutch. With one last gurgle his body went limp.

Blackglare recoiled in horror.

Whitestar ran toward the broken warrior. "No! My son! My warrior! How could this have happened?"

His wide blue eyes shimmered, the Stars dancing in his orbs. He keeled over, licking his son vigorously, as if trying to bring him back to life. "Come back!" His limbs were visibly trembling. His voice shook as he shouted through the silences. "Come—back—now—please!" The noise of his wailing pleas ebbed. He lay, shaking, above his dead warrior. At last, he seemed to admit defeat.

His gaze snapped around as his lip curled. "Look what you've done, pathetic flea-pelt!"

The ThunderClan cat's jaws were filled with blood. "I'm so, so sorry!" he gasped, the scarlet liquid dribbling down his chin. "Please—he just—we were fighting, and I didn't mean it—I wast paying attention to his shouts…"

A cloudy-gray she-cat with billowing fur flew forward through the crowd. She held her head proud as she stared at the ghastly sight, before looking to her warrior for an explanation.

"Hawkflight? What is the meaning of all this?"

Whitestar hung his quivering head in shame. He seemed to have calmed down now. "Crystalstar. Forgive me. I lost control of my senses and shouted at your warrior."

Crystalstar, ThunderClan's leader, raked the scene again with a powerful gaze that sparked fear into the hearts of those watching. "That can all be dealed with later," she mewed curtly. "For now, can my warrior, Hawkflight, explain to me what has just happened."

The mottled tom was palpitating in terror. He dipped his head, a diary look in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Crystalstar. I was fighting with this RiverClan warrior, and I must have lost control of myself. I never intended to hurt him."

 _Liar!_

Crystalstar stood still and never let her eyes flit away. "And yet, the warrior code states that the act of taking lives in battle unless absolutely necessary is an injustice."

Hawkflight's tail hit the ground with a thud. "It was all an accident. Yes, that's it. An accident." His voice wobbled.

"You are an honest warrior, Hawkflight," Crystalstar continued. "I believe you. You shall go unpunished. But listen to my words: your foolishness has cost another cat their life."

Hawkflight didn't stir. "Yes, Crystalstar."

Crystalstar lifted her head to look at the cats around her. "This battle can not go on any longer. Too much damage has been caused. Let us forget this. And as for you," she added, signalling to Whitestar, "I am deeply sorry. My warrior will remember his mistake for a long time."

Whitestar sighed. "Yes," he nodded, closing his eyes. "RiverClan, let's go. We shall carry our dear departed warrior back to camp where we shall sit vigil for him. The battle is over."

The ThunderClan, WindClan and RiverClan cats all parted into groups like a dividing river. Hawkflight trailed meekly at the back of his Clan. Subdued, Pebblewhisker and Wavefoam dragged the bloodstained body back to the main group.

But one cat stayed fixated where he was. His retractable coawsbdug into the earth. "No," he convinced himself, "it can't be."

Whitestar looked back and flicked his tail, at the front of the group. "Blackglare," he called, "we're all waiting for you."

But Blackglare didn't twitch.

"Blackglare!"

Finally, Blackglare lost control.

"No! No! It can't be! My father, cruelly slain…I'll kill that ThunderClan warrior, I know I will! I vow to kill him and if not to kill every last one of his bloodstained family members!"

Whitestar's eyes were round and empty of sympathy. His mew was patched with dryness. "You think this has been any less easy for me? He was my son. Now get back here, Blackglare."

 _Oh, yes, that's what I'll do_ , thought Blackglare, traipsing to the back if the group. _For now_. His eyes fell on his mangled father's face and a growl bubbled in the back of his throat. _But one day, I'll have my revenge._


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Oceanpelt watched Whitewhisker lead the dusk patrol outside the camp. He sighed. _It's like Whitewhisker is always on patrols or hunts or some task or another. He's so busy!_ His own ears ducked in shame _I wish I could do something for WindClan, but I'm a terrible mess at hunting._

He winced. His pride still stung whenever he remembered the angry ThunderClan patrol demanding why he had crossed the border, and he felt as if huge, powerful claws were raking through his pelt. Now, hardly any of the WindClan cats acknowledged when he was around, as if they didn't want him there. Oceanpelt sighed. So long as he was staying here without doing anything or receiving any messages from rock, his wound was healing, bit by bit, and time was running out for him in WindClan. And he hated to admit it, but he felt as if he were burdening the Clan. He was useless at hunting, and so far, had only succeeded in getting WindClan into trouble.

After the he and the WindClan patrol had argued with ThunderClan, they had returned home with their two pieces of prey and reported back to Broadstar. Oceanpelt felt lucky that he hadn't been banished right then and there. _From now on, I have to be better._

After that they had gone to sleep, Oceanpelt curled up, lonely on his secluded spot under the stars. He had woken up the next morning and spent another day resting, and now it was almost sundown.

He yawned, sighing in frustration. Where was Rock? The tom had surely sent him here to WindClan to do _something_! Why wasn't he sending him a sign, or telling him what to do? Was Oceanpelt supposed to look for answers himself? _I'm not a medicine cat like Feathershine_ , he thought bitterly.

 _Speaking of Feathershine, here she comes._ The beautiful white she-cat hurried out of the medicine den, a mouthful of herbs in her jaws. She looked worried, a hasty spring into her step.

Feeling generous, Oceanpelt thought that he might as well make himself useful. He got up. "Hi, Feathershine," he greeted cheerfully. "You look busy. I was wondering if I can help in some way?"

Feathershine dropped her herbs at her paws. "Thanks, Oceanpelt," she responded warmly with a flick of her tail. "Cherryfall's coughing is suddenly worse. She must have caught a chill, and now she's finding it hard to breath. I don't have enough coltsfoot to give to her."

Oceanpelt nodded determinedly. "What do you want me to do?"

"I'm going to go out on the moors to look for herbs," she answered. "It would be a great help if you could come and help me look."

Oceanpelt nodded once more, this time more rigorously. "Sure," he agreed. _At least there's no way to mess this up!_

They set off quickly, Feathershine explaining everything Oceanpelt needed to know as they went on. "Cherryfall's an elder, and her breathing is really weak. I need to constantly watch it, but I've run out of coltsfoot, and I badly need tp replenish my stock as quickly as possible. Coltsfoot is the best herb there is for wheezing and breathing troubles."

Oceanpelt tried his best to take that all in. "Right." He twitched his whiskers. "What does coltsfoot look and smell like?"

"I'll show you." She flicked her tail out toward the blood-red moor. "There's a thick clump that grows near the lake, right by the horseplace. The flowers are bright yellow and round, the size of a quarter of my paw. The leaves are shaped like angular lily-pads. You'll be able to recognize the scent, it's very sweet."

The sun was setting over the moor-tops, casting scarlet shadows onto the grass. The purple heather turned pink and the normally sunny, dark yellow gorse flowers were stained orange. Oceanpelt took a moment to admire the beautiful scenery: elegant landscape, sweet scents of blooms, and cool wind tugging at his fur.

"I can see why you enjoy living in the moor," he murmured.

Feathershine nodded. "I know." She paused to taste the air. "It's the only home we'll ever truly belong in."

Oceanpelt darted down the slope. "Is it this way?"

Feathershine led him downhill to the lake, and showed him a clump of coltsfoot. Oceanpelt wrinkled up his nose. It was overly-sweet and made him want to sniff.

"The juice is excellent for sore throats and lungs. Here, let me show you how to pick some from the roots." Feathershine skilfully laid down her paws and began to nip the stalks of coltsfoot with her teeth.

Oceanpelt, relieved at such an easy task, ducked his head and followed her, feeling calmed by the sound of the lake in his ears. The sweet and succulent smell of herbs helped drown out the musky odors of the horseplace nearby, with its hard Twoleg walls and huge stomping animals.

His gaze unconsciously slid to RiverClan. He saw the lush territory full of life, and felt grateful that RiverClan, at least, had had a plenty season and was swelling with life after a pleasant greenleaf.

He sighed. He missed his friends, family and Clanmates there, but he knew he would be back soon.

He paused in his work. "Feathershine, I have a question," he told her. He fluffed out his fur smoothly and took a casual tone. "Why have WindClan not said anything about the harsh season they've had?" He hoped he hadn't offended her.

Feathershine plucked out some more stalks and spat them out, licking the dirt from her teeth. "Clans are proud," she answered. To Oceanpelt's relief, her fur didn't look ruffled. "Especially WindClan. We've had to deal with so much hardship in the past, yet we have always emerged strong. WindClan is good at surviving when the odds are stacked against them. What good would it do us to complain? Noble warriors suffer in silence."

Oceanpelt lashed his tail. "But you don't have to! That's just stupid. Why don't you just ask RiverClan for some fish at a Gathering or something? They have an abundance of it, so it wouldn't matter to them!"

For a moment, Feathershine looked surprised, but then she sighed. "Sometimes, as a medicine cat, I wonder that too. If the Clans can simply live in peace with no fighting or disputes of food or territories. But you and I know better. That's not how it works."

Feeling powerless, Oceanpelt silently got back to work. The coltsfoot seemed to cloud his brain until he couldn't think clearly.

Feathershine looked at him oddly. "By the way, how did you know about RiverClan and Gatherings? You sound like a Clan cat."

Oceanpelt felt worried. _Oh no! I made a stupid mistake. Feathershine noticed it!_ "Oh, I was just passing a bit through RiverClan recently," he mewed coolly, thinking swiftly. Inside, his heart was thumbing. He lay in wait with baited breath, wishing hard that Feathershine wouldn't mention it again.

Feathershine blinked warmly at him. "It's okay. You can tell me the truth."

Oceanpelt's pelt grew hot and he sat up indignantly. "I already have," he answered simply, blood rushing through his ears.

Feathershine's paws scrabbled over the waterlogged earth, as she untangled the strips of foliage separately. "Well, if that's what you want," she answered. "But you can't fool me. Medicine cats _know_ when a cat isn't telling the complete truth."

Oceanpelt tested his gaze in amazement. He was astounded. Was this what medicine cats could truly do? Walk the paths of the world with the knowledge of StarClan in their paws?

He supposed that he shouldn't be surprised. And now that Feathershine knew, he might as well tell her everything. His ears suddenly pricked up. Perhaps that that was what he should have done all along! Maybe he wasn't getting any signs from Rock because he was meant to speak to Feathershine instead. After all, she was an experienced medicine cat, and medicine cats were often confided to by StarClan. Maybe Feathershine was his only gateway into succeeding is mission. He gritted is teeth, mind racing excitedly. _I_ have _to succeed!_

"Well, Feathershine," he began, mapping out the conversation inside his head. He may as well be tactful, so as to minimize the chance that he sounded completely crazy. "I suppose you're right, I wasn't telling you the whole truth. The thin is, you might not believe me, but here it is. I've actually been a part of RiverClan all my life, but a few days ago, I came across a strange cat that I had never seen before. He was completely unlike any I'd ever met, and I could feel a strange power coming from him. I then somehow ended up in WindClan, just like that!"

Feathershine pricked her ears. "Go on," she continued, intrigued. "What do you mean, you just ended up here?"

Oceanpelt sighed, completely forgetting about his task of picking stalks of coltsfoot. "You probably won't believe me, but I was sitting my warrior vigil when I saw a strange shadow on the Gathering island. I went to investigate and I found a blind, old cat who looked half-faded, like StarClan, but he didn't have stars glittering in his pelt. He said his name was Rock, and acted like I had a special task to succeed. Then the waters arose and drowned me, and I just _woke up_ on the shores of WindClan."

Feathershine cocked her ears. "Rock, you say?"

Oceanpelt blinked. "Yes, Rock." He looked at her hopefully, his heart beating fast. "Have you heard of him?"

She shook her head. "No."

He looked away, disappointed. "I'm sure my story sounds like nonsense to you."

"No, it doesn't," Feathershine assured him. "Just because a dead cat does not walk in our skies doesn't mean that other skies don't exist. Do you know The Tribe of Rushing Water?"

Oceanpelt nodded. "Of course." Although he had never seen any cat from the Tribe, the Clans knew them well enough and remained on friendly terms. He knew that a few moons before he was born, some Clan cats had left to visit the Tribe in the mountains, and that it wasn't rare to sometimes see them about.

"Well, they don't have a StarClan," Feathershine mewed. "But when a warrior dies, they go to the Tribe of Endless Hunting instead. So of course I believe you, Oceanpelt."

Oceanpelt exhaled in relief. "Phew, thanks, Feathershine," he replied, twitching his tail. "It still doesn't solve my problem though. How come he isn't speaking to me? I don't know what to do."

He stared down at his chest, trying to stop himself from growling. His injury was bound tight by cobwebs, and he was afraid of it healing fast. What if Braodstar asked him to leave if he recovered too quickly? Cats were already angry with him for chasing a rabbit over the ThunderClan scent line.

"Signs sometimes come in the simplest of ways." Feathershine blinked. "Sometimes, you just have to be patient. Don't expect the mouse to just run into your paws."

Oceanpelt felt jolted by these words. They sounded familiar, just like a small worm slithering into his mind.

"I suppose." He nodded, trying to convince himself. "Rock said it was my destiny, so it must happen sooner or later. Until then, all I have to do is be patient." He flashed a grateful look at Feathershine. Taking to her had somehow made him calmer, and made him realize that everything was surely going to be alright.

His memory was suddenly jogged. "There was also a prophecy. Rock talked of three other cats, and he said some…strange words."

Feathershine sat bolt upright. Her fur shifted in the wind, feathery white like snow. She whipped her plumy tail. "A prophecy?" she echoed, her blue eyes wide. They were so intense, burning as they stared right through Oceanpelt. "A prophecy, did you say?"

Oceanpelt nodded, slightly nervously. "Is that bad?"

"Do you feel drawn toward becoming a medicine cat? tell me the truth."

Oceanpelt shrank back, alarmed. "No! My heart has always felt pulled towards the life of a _warrior_!" His reply was earnest.

Feathershine studied him with scrutiny flashing in her gaze. She spoke more gently. "I understand. It's just, warriors don't normally receive prophecies. It must be really important. Go on, tell me what the prophecy was."

Oceanpelt began to search his mind to find the memory of those words, and was surprised to find them whispered into his head. Snarling voices as crisp as ice broke through his skull.

" _Revenge from the red ones will last until four cats meet to save the Clans._ " He blinked. "That's what he said. It really doesn't mean anything, though."

"Prophecies are never clear," Feathershine answered.

Oceanpelt flicked a look over his shoulder. "But then what's the point?" he replied, frustrated. "If you can only decipher them after they happen, then why would starClan send them in the first place?"

"Our warrior ancestors know what they are doing. You must trust in them. StarClan don't want to solve all of our problems like that and make a clear path that we must follow. They want to give us the freedom of choice. Sometimes cats need to make their own decisions."

Oceanpelt looked down. "I know, I know." He looked at the white medicine cat carefully. "I'm surprised. Do you believe me when I say I come from RiverClan?"

"You have the knowledge and experience of a Clan cat. The only other way you could have obtained that was if StarClan walked inside your soul and confided everything into your ears." Feathershine scratched out more scraggly coltsfoot leaves. "Either way, that means I can trust you."

Oceanpelt felt pleasantly surprised. "And yet, no-one seems to remember me, my face, or my scent. Why? I've show up at plenty of Gatherings."

Feathershine stared up a the sky. "I'm sure that's planned too. StarClan has a bright future in store for you, Oceanpelt."

The sky was stained orange at the tips like a glowing mountain on fire. The rest was dark and inky, a blended swirl of gray and blue. In the middle of their view rested a funnily-shaped cloud. Feathershine's eyes widened. "A sign!"

Oceanpelt snapped his gaze at hers. "StarClan has sent you a sign?"

Feathershine nodded, as if in a trance. Her eyes glittered with translucent light, reflecting the souls of the fallen warriors in StarClan. "The cloud––it's shaped like a flower bud from newleaf." She breathed, sending a puff of clouds into the cold air. "Their message is this: never give up hope."

Oceanpelt stared up at the cloud in the sky. And now, he felt ready to believe it. "From now on, I shall never give up hope!" he vowed, and hope truly did flare in his chest.


End file.
